


The TiME Between

by Worldlyshuku



Series: All the TiME in the World [3]
Category: Supernatural, TiMER (2009)
Genre: Accountant Castiel, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, Human Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Third Person, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Pre-Relationship, Slow Build, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Surprises, Wordcount: 30.000-50.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worldlyshuku/pseuds/Worldlyshuku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester have been matched as soulmates by their TiMERs.  Dean isn't ready to commit a lifetime to a man – cause, well, he's not gay, dammit; doesn't matter that he'd already had a drunken one-night stand with the guy six months ago.  Castiel is determined to let Dean come to him on his own terms, something that takes time and a ridiculous amount of patience.</p><p>Or, the moments in Dean's life that finally <i>finally</i> draw him closer to his soulmate, Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read part 1 or 2 of All the TiME in the World series first – those can be read in either order since they are events of their first meetings from differing POVs. Part 3, The TiME Between, is a direct sequel to them. You'll find an explanation of TiMERs in the previous parts as well.  
> This story is only the events that lead up to Dean and Cas getting together, so slow burn with no smut... Sorry! The next part in the series will cover all of that. XD This is the time between meeting and falling in love.  
> Alternate titles considered were “A TiME for Patience” and “The TiME it Takes to Accept”.  
> Hope you all enjoy the journey!
> 
> Over 2k hits and 100 kudos! Thanks! <3

* * *

Castiel glanced down at his TiMER that after ten years finally showed all zeroes. Today, he had met his soulmate, his match, the One, the person that he would spend the rest of his life with, but it hadn't gone down as smoothly as he would have liked.

Dean Winchester.

He had had one glorious and drunken evening with him long before Dean had a TiMER installed. The night had been awesome even if all of the details were a little fuzzy with alcohol, but the morning after revealed a closeted man that wanted to deny everything. Castiel hated to admit that it had stung.

Meeting Dean again, six months after the fact – as fate would have it when he popped a curb and needed to repair his vehicle – hadn't apparently been enough time for the man to get over whatever denial was going on in his head. Although Dean's younger brother, Sam, had offered for Castiel to join him and his girlfriend for dinner, Castiel had turned him down. For whatever reason, Dean wasn't ready; he had fled when their TiMERs had revealed them to be each other's match. Dean didn't stay and face him. Sam had tried to explain, but Castiel didn't want to force it. Which meant he probably shouldn't be hanging out with his family or friends until Dean was okay with it.

Dean was the One for him. He would be there for Castiel when he was ready.

Didn't mean that it didn't suck.

Castiel had found his soulmate, and while it didn't have to be love at first sight, after ten years of waiting, he would have liked to at least been given the chance to get to know Dean. He had remembered a charming young man at the club. Incredibly cocky, but passionate. Boasted about his car – it had been too long for Castiel to remember what it was. Memories of the night gave Castiel flashes of an awkward but thorough lover. A smile with teeth that melted through to his very soul.

His match was very handsome, beautiful in some ways – but he was sure that Dean would baulk at being called beautiful. A fit build with a hint of a one-too-many-burgers diet. Expressive green eyes under long lashes, pouty lips around straight white teeth, and the lightest of freckles over his nose and cheeks. It had been too dark in his bedroom to see at the time, but Castiel was sure that those freckles dotted along his shoulders and back, too.

Castiel sat back in his chair, tired blue eyes roaming over the receipts that he needed to add to his client's report, but he felt no hurry to work on it. Any usual day, he could have breezed through about ten reports in a few hours, but today, the day that he had met the love of his life, he had barely gotten half of that done. The fucking Sun and twittering birds right outside of his office window were mocking him. He felt so crappy and unmotivated. Rejected. He should have just taken a sick day after he broke his car.

Dean would want him, eventually. But right now, he didn't. Castiel hated it.

His work for today would take the brunt of his despair. Hopefully, his boss would understand and take pity on him with the assumption that Castiel was being upset over his broken vehicle and not his broken heart. At least he could keep up an outward stoic appearance. He luckily didn't have to see his friends, Balthazar and Gabriel, until this evening; maybe he should feign sick and get out of meeting them at the bar.

He hadn't been able to hide it from Hannah at work though since she knew of the change in his TiMER and had been expecting an update over lunch. Her TiMER still had a five-year-long wait for Hannah to look forward to after no activity for almost five years before that. She had been hopeful for Castiel's meeting with his match, that waiting ten years could be worth it. He had to give her grim news that the wait would likely be longer still.

The phone at his desk started to ring, and he picked it up after a few rings with a half-hearted, “Castiel Novak of Milton Accounting. How may I help you?” The line was silent, so Castiel spoke up. “Hello? Can I help you?”

Someone cleared their throat and muttered, “Uh, hi, Cas-Castiel.”

Castiel perked up at that voice. He hadn't heard it clearly in a long time and only briefly this morning, but he'd swear it was Dean's voice on the other line. Maybe he was calling to set up a date or even just coffee. He waited for possible-Dean to continue.

“I'm with Singer-Winchester Auto.” He still hadn't given a name, but the sound was unmistakable. “We, uh, confirmed that your axle was damaged, so in order to replace it, we needed to get your permission. We'd have to keep it for a few days since we don't have the parts available here.”

He was calling about his car. Just his car?

* * *

 

Although Dean had convinced Sam to confront his soulmate for him, his brother wasn't letting him off too easy. When it came time to call Cas to tell him that it was more than just a flat tire, Sam shoved the phone at Dean and claimed that he needed to use the restroom.

Dean had worked on smaller projects throughout the day while Bobby inspected the damage on the Lincoln Continental with an awful beige color. God, was that really Cas's car? Dean didn't remember it sitting in front of Cas's house that... one night. When there was a lull in customers, Dean helped Bobby with the task of removing the popped tire and ordering a new one to be delivered from the storage yard. That usually took a few hours, so they did a few final inspections on the axle and deemed that a good portion of it needed to be replaced.

But now Dean was standing in the lobby, phone in hand, unsure of what to say to Cas. The phone rang and rang until Cas's smooth voice greeted, “You've reached Castiel Novak's mobile phone. I'm sorry I've missed your call. Please leave your name, number, and a-” Dean hung up before the recording finished.

“He didn't pick up,” Dean shouted down the small hallway behind the register towards the bathroom that connected with the garage.

“Leave a message!” the muffled voice of Sam shouted back.

Dean huffed and looked at the phone, his zeroed-out TiMER plainly in view on his wrist. Maybe he should get it removed now that he had met his soulmate. “I, uh, already hung up,” he admitted loudly, glad that there weren't any customers in the lobby to listen to him yelling at his brother.

“You're a big boy, Dean! Call back or try his work number.” Sam's shout was followed by the sound of a toilet flush and then running water.

So, Dean looked over the paper again with Cas – no, _Castiel's_ – personal information scribbled on it. His name, his address, his mobile and work numbers, and, of course, Bobby's scrawled writing about his car. If Castiel had been a woman, Dean would totally use this information to stalk-not-stalk her. For now, a man – a paying customer – needed his car fixed, and Dean could pretend professionalism for a few minutes. He dialed Castiel's work number and waited.

“Castiel Novak of Milton Accounting. How may I help you?” He was an accountant?

Dead said nothing, giving Sam wide eyes as his brother stepped out of the bathroom. Sam just gave him an annoyed look and muttered that he was going to organize some stuff in the storage closet.

“Hello? Can I help you?” Castiel asked over the phone.

Dean finally cleared his throat, reminding himself to be a professional and help the customer. “Uh, hi, Cas-Castiel,” he said. Castiel didn't reply to his greeting, so Dean opted to throw as much information out there as he could, explaining that he was from Singer-Winchester Auto, that they needed permission to replace the axle, and that they'd have to keep the car longer.

He could hear Castiel's long-drawn breath, and all Castiel said was, “How much?”

“Cost?” Dean stepped back from the counter and gave the wall behind him a kick with his heel. When Sam came out of the break room with furrowed brows and hands out in a 'what?' stance, Dean said for them both to hear, “Sorry, I don't know the estimates for parts and labor. Sam can get that for you.” Sam nodded and gave him a thumbs up. “Here, I'll pass you on to him,” Dean said to Castiel.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel's voice sounded wistful almost, and Dean couldn't hand the phone off quicker as Sam frowned at him.

Dean disappeared back into the garage and tried to busy himself again. Castiel's car was the only one to work on, and they couldn't do anything with it until they ordered the necessary parts and those wouldn't arrive until at least tomorrow. He joined Bobby in cleaning and inspecting their tools while they waited for another car to work on.

After a few quiet minutes, Bobby nudged Dean in the arm with a socket wrench. “What're you lookin' so glum for? Aren't you supposed to meet your soulmate today?” he asked.

Dean snorted a laugh, continuing to rub a rag over a ratchet. “Already did,” he said without looking up.

“Then... what's with the long face? Not what you expected?” Bobby hazarded a guess.

“You could say that.”

“Lisa set the bar pretty high, boy.” Bobby patted Dean's knee and gave him a friendly smile. “But this new girl's your soulmate. She'll grow on you.”

Dean choked down another laugh. “Right.”

“I'm not too good with the touchy-feely, but something you want to get off your chest?” Bobby offered.

Bobby Singer was a joint owner of Singer-Winchester Auto with his father, John, and had been around for as long as Dean could remember. He'd grown up with Bobby who had become like a second dad or in the least like an uncle. While not of blood, the man was still family. Bobby was a crotchety guy, but he'd earned his place in Dean's heart with all the times he'd been there for the Winchester boys when their father sometimes failed at it.

There were some things Dean just couldn't tell Bobby though. His soulmate being male... that might be one of them. He knew John wouldn't approve, but Bobby might – if only for the fact that the older man now believed in the TiMERs. Dean was still questioning them himself though.

“I'll be fine. Thanks, Bobby,” Dean finally said.

* * *

 

Castiel answered the door because someone was playing some unrecognizable jingle with his doorbell, and it wouldn't stop. He glowered at Gabriel's too-jolly face before he walked back into the living room and flopped onto his couch.

Gabriel shut the door behind him and followed Castiel into the other room. “Don't tell me you put sweats on the moment you got home. Come on,” he urged with a swat to Castiel's socked foot on the coffee table. “Balthy is waiting for us. Get dressed.”

“I already told you on the phone that I wasn't feeling well.” Castiel leaned forward to grab the mug of tea from the coffee table and took a sip.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and snatched the remote to turn off whatever trashy talk show Castiel was watching. “Other than the craptastic lounge wear, you don't look sick to me. You met your soulmate, man, so unless you're meeting here for some Netflix and Chill, come out and celebrate.”

“Nothing to celebrate,” Castiel said bitterly, taking another sip of his tea.

“Nothing to-” Gabriel's eyes widened, and he looked affronted. “Nothing to celebrate?! Why, was she ugly? _He_ ugly?”

“ _He_ was very aesthetically appealing,” Castiel explained, “but he is not interested in what I have to offer.”

Gabriel furrowed his brows and shook his head. “You are talking about your _soulmate_ , right? What is there to not want?”

Castiel rolled his eyes during a gulp of tea now that it was a bit cooler. “A penis, it seems.”

“Wait, wait.” Gabriel held up his hand before he disappeared down the hallway. He was gone for a few minutes, and then returned with a pair of jeans, a button-up shirt, and a belt. “Say no more. Get dressed. Balthy will want to hear this over drinks.” He dropped the clothes on the couch next to Castiel.

Castiel grumbled as he took his mug to put it in the kitchen sink. He begrudgingly put on the designated outfit, grabbed a dark coat, and followed Gabriel out into the night.

* * *

 

There was a shit-tonne of people at the bar – some swanky place that Balthazar liked to go to. He was more of a club guy, surrounded by gorgeous people – both women and men – but when it came to hanging with Gabriel and Castiel, Balthazar had downgraded to an upscale bar this year. When the two of them arrived, Balthazar already had a frothy cold pitcher and three glasses waiting on the table in a booth in the far corner.

“My friends!” he greeted with exuberance, giving them firm handshakes and adding a pat on the back for Castiel. As he motioned for them to sit, he just couldn't wait and said, “So, Cassie. Gabriel tells me that your dick is giving you love troubles. Care to share?”

Castiel huffed a weak laugh at Balthazar's knowing smirk. “My TiMER thinks I should spend the rest of my life with a man that is frightened by his own sexuality. I know he should come around one day, but I figure that I've waited long enough. I've gone a third of my life with a blank TiMER, for God's sake.”

“So, what happened?” Gabriel asked, pouring beer into each of their glasses.

Castiel sighed and looked around at the myriad of people in the bar – some sitting in the booths against the walls to the back and right, others at tables in the middle of the room, a few at the bar on tall stools to the left, and some dancing on a cleared-out space near booths in the back with the jukebox. “He's a mechanic. I told you I popped a curb this morning...” He continued when they nodded. “That's how I met him today. He came in from the garage, saw me, our TiMERs went off, and he disappeared back into the garage. I talked with him briefly on the phone about my car, but he doesn't seem to want to acknowledge me. His brother said that he was sorry. I guess I just have to wait it out now.”

Balthazar shook his head and held up a finger. “So how do you know his sexuality is the problem? Maybe he's just shy?”

Gabriel nodded in agreement.

“It's not the first time we've actually met,” Castiel explained plainly, “just the first time since we've both had TiMERs.”

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up at that, and he grinned. “What was the first meeting like?”

“Great,” Castiel said, reaching forward and taking a swig of the beer. “Until he woke up in my bed the next morning, freaked out, and wanted to act like it had never happened.” The other two men were quiet for a moment, but clearly, their faces showed as if they had been told something scandalous.

Castiel had been waiting for ten years for his TiMER to show any number of days, and he would have thought that after so long, the interest of when that would happen would have died down, but not for Gabriel and Balthazar. Where Castiel was quiet and more reserved, Gabriel and Balthazar were rambunctious and outgoing. It was a surprise that he was even friends with them. Castiel had gotten a small apartment next to theirs while Gabriel and Balthazar were going to a nearby college after he had first moved out of the Novak family home. The endless parties had kept him up at nights at first until Castiel had finally confronted them to keep it down and had ended up joining them instead.

Honestly, Castiel was a little baffled that these two hadn't hooked up, but they were just the best of bros. In wasn't in the TiMERs anyway since Balthazar had never gotten one – there'd been enough times that Castiel had wondered what if... that maybe Balthazar would get one, and his own TiMER might finally change... but that was mere desperation.  Didn't keep them fooling around for a little bit sometimes, but that hadn't happened in years. And a few years ago, Gabriel had gotten a TiMER with his girlfriend, Kali, and it was meant to be. He envied them. One didn't have a care in the world for what he called the 'soulmate nonsense' and the other picked just the Right One without having to wait and wonder.

“This isn't...” Balthazar started, squinting his eyes. “How long ago was it? You were talking about some prick that broke your little heart awhile back... What was his name again?”

“Dean,” Castiel answered, closing his eyes.

“Woah. Same guy?” Gabriel asked.

Castiel nodded.

“That's a righteous slap of karma if I'd ever heard one,” Gabriel laughed.

Balthazar said, “Yeah, I remember how brutal that morning sounded. The evening was fun though at least?”

“That's just it,” Castiel said as he opened his eyes. “That night, he gave no indication that he wasn't interested. My people skills might be a bit rusty sometimes, and we were both highly inebriated... but I remember him flirting, at least what constituted as flirting. He may have been laying it on a bit thick? And when it came down to the bedroom, he was new to intercourse with another man, but he was eager to learn.”

Gabriel snorted into his beer as he set it down. “Yes, I remember you explaining that he rocked your world that night. I don't need all the juicy details. Thanks.”

“I wouldn't mind more details,” Balthazar said as he leaned forward and rested his chin upon the back of his hand.

Gabriel rolled his eyes at that. “Of course you wouldn't mind.”

“Was he a better lay than me?” Balthazar asked.

Gabriel promptly choked on his beer that he had lifted back up to his mouth. After a short coughing fit, he blurted, “Geez, you didn't have to remind me about that. You guys still aren't...? I thought that ended years ago.”

Castiel shook his head, mild concern for his friend after chugging liquid down the wrong tube, but then he answered with an almost clinical evaluation. “Dean was... different. Similar cocky mannerisms, but easy to stumble, like he was over-compensating. He was adequately equipped-”

Gabriel shoved his fingers in his ears and started quietly humming to himself.

“And I,” Castiel continued, but faltered, “I don't know Balthazar. It was just different.”

“Like making love with your soulmate?” Balthazar offered.

“No,” Castiel said, shaking his head. That hadn't been the case at all. He looked down at his half-empty glass. “Maybe the night sticks out so much because I can't remember a lot of it and the morning after was awful.”

Balthazar fell back into his seat and nodded. “Perhaps. Hey, Gabe.” He flicked his hand at Gabriel. “You can take your fingers out of your ears.”

As Gabriel was doing just that, seeming to notice the lack of conversation going on, Castiel only _mostly_ joking said, “Oh, and Dean's ass was nice and firm. Felt great cupped in my hands as he-” He didn't finish as he snickered at Gabriel loudly 'lalala'ing with his fingertips back in his ears.

* * *

 

“Do I come off as even slightly gay?” Dean asked his friend, Benny.

Benny was sitting across from him at the table in a bar. He raised a questioning brow and took a sip from his bottled beer. “You invited me out for a drink to get into my pants, Dean?”

Dean sputtered over his own beer. “No! No. That's not...” He was certain that his face was red, and he glanced away from Benny to look at the hot blonde _chick_ sitting alone at the far end of the bar. “Just asking seriously. Hypothetically.”

“I've known you for a few years, Dean,” Benny started, putting his drink down on the table. “But that's not something I've been paying attention to... wait!” He suddenly reached in his jacket pocket and grabbed his phone. “I had forgotten. There was a message you sent me.” He was flipping through his phone, eyes squinting in the dim light. “Maybe six months ago? Ah, here. This might help.”

Dean watched Benny's phone slide across the table to him. “A message?” He had left Benny a voice mail six months ago according to the screen. He swallowed and looked up at his friend. “Why did you save this?”

“Thought I could blackmail you with it later.” Benny shrugged. “But then you got together with Lisa, and I kind of forgot.”

“What...”

“Just play it.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath and put the phone to his ear as he pressed the green arrow.

“Hey! Benny!” God, it was his voice, and he sounded totally smashed – way too loud and cheery. “Cas, say 'hi'.”

Castiel's voice was there, all quiet timber. “Um, hello?”

Dean was back in the message. “That's Cas. I keep tellin' him he has an _awe_ some bedroom voice. Tell him, Benny.” Despite the slight slurring, Dean could make out everything six-month-ago-Dean was saying.

Current-Dean groaned, and Benny gave him an awkward smirk.

He could faintly hear Castiel arguing in the message that Benny wasn't on the phone, so he couldn't answer that. Didn't deter Dean from trying to convince Benny in the message anyway. “Come on. Say something sexy for my friend.”

Castiel was faintly arguing again, but the message fell silent for a moment. He coughed loud enough to be heard but still far from the microphone. His voice changed as he tried to plead with Dean. “Dean, stop putting that in my face. What you're asking me to say is not very appropriate for use outside of the bedroom.”

“That's the point, Cas.” His own voice was close, too, and Dean wondered if he had taken the phone back or was sharing the phone close to Castiel. “Say... how about ' _oh, baby..._ '? That one's not too bad, right?” Ugh, he had practically moaned the 'oh, baby' six months ago.

Dean caught the slight hitch in Castiel's breath over the phone. “I'd... Dean, please, I-”

“Ah, I'm making you uncomfortable,” Dean said to Castiel in the message. “Would you...” No. Dean knew that change in his tone. _Don't you fucking dare,_ he thought. “If I got you into my bedroom... would you say those sorts of things?” Oh, fuck. He had been flirting with Castiel. Considering where the night took them, he should have known that. But to have audio evidence of it? _Damn it._

Castiel's voice was quiet and away from the phone, but his tone had changed as well when he said, “I would be amendable to that.”

“Awesome,” six-months-ago-Dean said. “Mind getting refills? Thanks, Handsome.” Loud again, Dean continued, “Did you hear that, Benny? I fucking told you.”

And then the phone went quiet.

Dean slid the phone back across the table to Benny and dropped his face into his open hands. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled between his palms.

Benny laughed and listened to the message for a recap before he put it away. “Hearing that again... I'm pretty sure that Cas guy thought you were slightly gay.”

Dean groaned loudly. He sat back up, swiftly grabbing his beer and leaning back in the booth cushions to pout. “Unbelievable. Why didn't you tell me about this?”

Benny shrugged. “I don't know. Heard from Sexy Bedroom Voice since?” he teased.

Dean dropped his arm onto the table wrist up to display his TiMER. “I saw him today.”

Benny sat upright and narrowed his eyes at Dean. “You saw him?” He looked down at the TiMER. “You _saw_ him, Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Dean repeated.

Benny leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Damn, mate. When you said you wanted to talk about your match and sounded down about it, I thought maybe she was some old woman or on her death bed or something like that. But a man? And it's the same guy as from the message?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you do? When the TiMERs went off?” Benny asked, voice quiet.

Dean closed his eyes and took a sip from his beer before answering. “I chickened out. I saw him, heard the things beeping their stupid jingles, and ran.”

“Harsh, man.” Benny shook his head. “You haven't talked to him at all?”

“Yes and no,” Dean admitted. “Sam made me call him about his car, but that's been it.”

“He didn't ask about the match then?” Benny questioned.

Dean shook his head.

“Huh. Most soulmates that meet are chomping at the bit to get to know each other.” Benny shifted on his seat cushion and regarded Dean. “I guess I get your hesitation, but what's his deal? He's got the patience of a saint waiting for you, or he's not happy with the match either? What even happened between you two that night?”

Dean gulped down the rest of his beer, steeling his resolve to finally tell someone about that night. He wasn't sure if Benny was the right person to reveal his six-month-long secret to. Considering that he had left Benny a message with some details of Castiel... it's not like he could pretend the night didn't happen around him. He didn't even know what his stance was on... homosexuality? Bisexuality? Benny hadn't freaked out and left yet, but Dean could very well lose a friend if he opened up too much to Benny.

Dean didn't have many close friends, but Benny was counted as one of them. His friend's story was a little cruel, and Dean felt a bit guilty that he hadn't thought of his romance as a bad TiMER match when he had been trying to compile examples earlier. From what Benny had told him, he had been in a gang almost ten years ago when he had met his soulmate, Andrea. She had been an awesome match until she had gotten caught in the middle of some turf war a few years later and died. She was supposed to be his soulmate, and she died only a few years later... but Benny always insisted that their TiMERs were right and the circumstances were terrible. He had wanted to get out, and he was working on that for Andrea; it didn't happen soon enough. Eventually, Benny had moved to Lawrence a few years ago across the hall from Dean, and they had hit it off almost immediately.

“Look, Benny, I haven't told anyone about that night,” Dean started, “It's not exactly a shining moment.”

“Mum's the word, if that's what you want,” Benny claimed, putting a finger over his lips. “You wanted to talk, so here's your chance.”

“Yeah, well. I don't remember leaving you that message. And there's a lot more I don't remember. It was a lot of alcohol.” Dean tried to say what he could recall. “I met Castiel, or Cas I called him, at some club. Fuck if I remember what he was like. Nice, maybe? Anyway, he had, well, really amazing eyes-”

“And apparently, a sexy voice,” Benny provided with a teasing grin.

“Uh... sure?” That was not something that Dean was thinking about when he talked to Castiel over the phone.

After taking a sip of beer, Benny said, “You seemed rather confident about it in the message.”

“Can I just tell my stupid story?” Dean waited for a moment, and continued when Benny put his hands up in mock surrender. “Thanks. I have only moments of fuzziness, but for some reason, somehow, I made out with him in a cab, we ended up... well, doing _stuff_ at his house, and then I woke up really early the next morning in his bed. I tried to tell him to forget about it, told him about my fake TiMER, you remember that, and that I wasn't into men. He slammed the door in my face.”

“Based on the morning, sounds like you deserved it,” Benny declared. “That was far too much brutal honesty for someone you just met. Men have feelings, too, you know.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He hadn't wanted to offend Castiel and had sought to not get his hopes up. He asked instead, “You're not bothered that I... _you know_?”

“Slept with a man? Why would I care what you do in bed? You're still my friend.” Dean sighed in relief at Benny's words. “At least I don't have to ask if you found him attractive. Clearly you did, if you saw fit to bed the man,” Benny tried to reason.

“I'm really not into guys, Benny. I don't know what happened. God, I was so drunk.” Dean looked at his alcohol with mild disgust. He couldn't give this crap up outright, but he'd never get that drunk ever again.

Benny leaned into the table again, quietly asking, “Do you think... someone could have put something in your drink?”

“I wasn't raped!” Dean hissed, trying to stay quiet. “My memories are hazy on the details, but I totally remember being conscious. For fuck's sake, I to...” Dean cut short and felt his face warm at the memory.

“You ta... what?”

Dean shook his head. “It was drunken sex. What little I remember was... mostly nice.” Castiel's bedroom voice was making itself known more clearly, and Dean closed his eyes to the continued warmth washing over him.

Benny asked, “Seeing Cas again doesn't make you want to bone him?”

“God, no,” Dean answered honestly.

“How about me?”

“What?”

Benny started to explain, “Ever think about-”

“No!” Dean wailed a little too loudly. “You're my friend. Ew.”

Benny huffed a laugh at Dean. “I'd be offended, but clearly, I'm just not your type. Although... I'm told that _I_ have an awesome bedroom voice.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Wait, are you... into men?”

Benny shook his head. “Nah. Andrea was it for me. I'm confident in my sexuality to appreciate a pretty face though.” He took a gulp from his bottle and gazed at Dean as he set it back down on the table. “Like you. I'm not going to jump you over it, but you've got a nice face.”

“I- what?” Dean held up his hand, covering the lower half of his face.

“You heard what I said.” Benny gave him a small wink.

“I'm, uh... going for another,” Dean said to change the subject, gesturing at his two empty beer bottles, “you need a refill?”

Benny regarded his own beer with a tilt of his wrist and nodded. “Yeah, I'll be done with this one in a bit.”

Dean shuffled to the edge of the booth seat and stood up. When he got to the bar and was asked what he'd like, Dean answered, “Two El Sols. Tab's under Dean.”

He received the beers quickly after the bartender popped off the tops, and he turned to walk back to Benny, but something – or more accurately, some _one_ – stopped him short. The person was standing there, frozen in place with wide blue eyes and disheveled dark hair.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, cool bottle necks gripped tight in his hands.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this story remains a WIP, I will update as I can. The final chapters are not yet written, but at least planned out. :)


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

They both stood there, unmoving for what felt like minutes but was probably only a few seconds. Castiel clutched the large empty pitcher to his chest and made the first move to step forward and place it on the counter.

“I'm sorry,” Castiel greeted him. “I'll find some place else to go for the evening. Do you frequent this bar? I'll stop coming here if you do.” _If you don't want to see me,_ Castiel thought a little miserably. It's all Castiel could think of to do. Dean had run from every encounter, and this one... Dean's eyes and stiff form said he was readying to bolt. Dean sighed though, his body going slack.

“Stay, Castiel,” Dean said. “Fate is probably going to make this keep happening, so... we should go about our lives as normal, right?”  Dean hoped that sounded sincere and fair. He felt hot all over, flushed from head to toe. It had to be the alcohol. Fuck, alcohol and Castiel did not mix well for him. He was only lightly buzzed, but a few more of these, and he'd be teetering towards drunk. Dean glanced at the bottles in his hand – last one for the night, no more.

The heat could also be from embarrassment. Dean thought he had been such a dick to Castiel; he couldn't deny that. Talking with Benny hadn't cured him of his being-a-dick streak, but his, Bobby's, and Sammy's words about soulmates were coming together, and he thought he owed it to the guy who'd been waiting ten fucking years for him to be nice.

Castiel smiled, small crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, as he leaned on the bar. “That sounds reasonable, Dean.”

The alcohol had to be screwing with Dean again since that made his heart leap up into his throat and throb almost painfully there. Dean was finding a pleasantness to Castiel's looks, slim but firm under that black shirt, long fingers... He'd remembered peppering kisses along a clean-shaven neck and now it was a little darkened with stubble, but Dean didn't think it to be a huge deal. Pale chapped lips. Those eyes. Damn it. It was always with those eyes. He hadn't dreamed about that mesmerizing color of blue for months, and he feared those were about to come back in full force.

Dean nervously licked his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, something that Castiel tried not to take obvious notice of, but he caught himself glancing at Dean's soft lips anyway. He was able to rake his eyes away when the bartender came up from behind the bar and asked if he wanted a refill. Castiel stuttered a, “Y-yes, please. Uh, Blue Moon Belgian White.”

“Ah, put that on my tab,” Dean requested of the bartender, putting his own beers down since they were starting to hurt his hands.

“That's not necessary.” Castiel looked over at him with a tilt of his chin.

Dean knew this wasn't going to cover it, but he could start out with the smallest of apologies. “It's the least I can do, Castiel. I've treated you poorly, and I'd like to get you a drink.” He quickly cleared his throat and added, “Nothing meant by it other than 'I'm sorry'.”

“I'd rather have your number.”

“Uh...”

Castiel blinked and drew in a sharp breath, realizing that he had made that request out loud. “I'm sorry, ignore that, please,” he said as he gripped the edge of the bar tightly. _Please don't run away._

Dean looked away, a meek smile playing at his lips and a gentle pink darkening his cheeks. “Direct. I'll, um, file that away somewhere.”

And Castiel would file away that blush for later...

They had been exchanging words for longer than a few minutes, but Castiel didn't know if that meant that they could continue talking, _should_ keep talking. The bar booths along the wall were tall enough that he could only see the top of Gabriel's head, and Balthazar was being blocked by a group of women standing around their table, greeting one another with hugs and friendly kisses. He'd been gone long enough that they might know something was keeping him. Balthazar would see as soon as those women sat down.

“Compromise then,” Dean suddenly said, snapping Castiel's attention back to him. “If you can... tell me my favorite song, I'll give you my number.”

“Your number for your favorite song?” Castiel asked, narrowing his eyes curiously with a tilt of his head. “I don't even know what sort of music you like.”

“I'm sure it's something that we discussed... before,” Dean said hesitantly. He leaned his back on the bar. “And you're in luck, because I have two songs that are tied for favorite. Double your chances.”

Castiel looked down at the stool between them and then glanced over to the jukebox against the far wall where the “dance floor” was located. A song that he enjoyed? Castiel couldn't remember... “Would it be in that jukebox?” Castiel asked, unsure if Dean had made up some rules about giving hints.

Dean looked past Castiel to the jukebox in question. It looked like a classic jukebox from the design on the outside, but Dean knew that it was actually a newer model with a digital library. “Yeah, I'm sure it is,” he said knowing that he had found both of them there the last time he had been at this bar.

Castiel didn't want to make a guess and make a fool of himself by going in the completely wrong direction. Rock, hip-hop, rap, classical, blues, country, jazz...? He knew next-to-nothing about Dean. If the man would just give him his number or let him hang out, he could learn these sorts of things.

“'Bohemian Rhapsody'?” Castiel asked, grimacing. It was a well-known song that a lot of people enjoyed, so it had felt like a safe bet.

“Nope.” Dean shuffled himself up onto the bar stool between them and grabbed one of the beers that he had set down. 

“Am I anywhere close?”

Dean narrowed his eyes at the ceiling, and as he turned back to look at Castiel he caught his tongue between his teeth during a smile. “Not going to make it that easy for you.” Dean tipped back his head to take the first swig of his beer.

 _Close then_ , Castiel assumed. Something classic rock – or maybe by Queen? – then...

Dean watched Castiel thinking, his gaze far off and eyes squinting to make crinkles on his nose, his head slightly shaking now and again as he worked through songs to consider. Dean noticed that he had made himself _comfortable_ , giving Castiel the chance to make multiple guesses. _Do I_ want _him to have my number?_

Castiel made three more guesses, all within the same genre, but all wrong.

Watching Castiel's serious face, Dean realized that his phone was buzzing in his pocket. He reached for it and found a text from Benny that read, _“Who are you talking to?”_ When he looked up across the room to the booth that he had been sitting at, Dean caught sight of Benny giving him a small wave.

“'Sweet Child of Mine'?” Castiel asked with a tilt of his head before he noticed that Dean's gaze had gone from the other side of the room back down to his phone in his hand. He saw a man with a mariner's cap sitting in a booth putting down his hand and trying to nonchalantly look away. “Ah, sorry, I am keeping you from your friend. Mine are waiting as well. Shall we... continue this another time?”

 _Another time?_ Dean thought. How many more times would they meet up like this? He ended up saying, “Promise you won't cheat and try to get it from my brother?” Yeah, definitely the alcohol giving him the nerve to talk to him.

“I am not in communication with your brother,” Castiel defended himself, reaching for the handle of the full pitcher. “I've asked him not to speak to me of you should he call me regarding vehicle repairs. I wish to get my information straight from the source.” _From you._

“Okay, awesome,” Dean huffed, taking the other beer meant for Benny and scooching off of the leather cushion of the stool. He saluted to Castiel with a beer in hand. “Guess I'll catch you later, Castiel.”

“Cas.”

“Hm?”

“Cas, is fine,” Castiel explained, inclining his head forward in ways of a small bow. Castiel didn't want to admit that the nickname was unique to Dean. No one had ever called him 'Cas' before; 'Cassie' was usually the go-to nickname for him.

“Cas then.” Dean nodded. “We'll take good care of your car. 'Night.”

“Good night,” Castiel said quietly.

* * *

 The next day, during Castiel's lunch, Sam was the one to call him with an update on his car: the parts were in, and he should expect a call before closing as long as nothing major happened. By the time he would get off of work, they would already be closing, so Castiel asked if he could come by during lunch tomorrow instead.

“Yeah, of course,” Sam told him over the phone. “Dean will be working.” He sounded hopeful, but Castiel was uncertain if Sam told him because he thought he might be excited to see Dean or to warn him. Castiel was curious if Dean had told Sam that they had bumped into each other last night. He felt that it was very unlikely.

Yesterday and today, Castiel had gotten rides from Hannah who had been a little interested in sticking around at the auto shop. He knew that she just wanted to see Dean, the man that was making him wait even longer for true love in his life. To say the least, Dean wasn't her favorite person right now, and the fact that she wanted to punch him really surprised Castiel – she had always been so good at keeping her emotions in check.

But he went in alone, waving through the large front windows as Hannah drove off. There was only one other person in the room, a young man with short black hair sitting down in the chairs in the lobby seemingly engrossed in a textbook; he didn't look up at all, unaware of Castiel's presence. There wasn't anyone at the counter, so he just sort of loitered there for a bit wondering what the protocol was for flagging someone down to get his car. But then a man appeared from the garage, a fairly rough-edged-looking man with dark hair and a scruffy beard that had hints of gray.

“Hey, sorry for the wait,” the man greeted him with a rough voice. He pulled out a rag from the side pocket of his olive-colored coveralls and started to wipe down his blackened hands. “How can I help you?”

Castiel looked down to see his name tag said 'John'. “Hello,” Castiel said, “I got a call from a Bobby? He said my car was ready. I'm Castiel Novak, and my car is a beige Lincoln Continental-”

“Ah, right, with the broken axle.” John finished wiping down his hands, and Castiel noticed that the man didn't have a TiMER – didn't have a scar from one being removed either. The man leaned down over the keyboard, slowly clacking away at it. “Let me get you a copy of the report, so you can see the damages. Get it paid for, print and sign the receipt, and then it's all yours.”

“Thanks.”

The length of the list looked rather extensive, listing a tire, various auto parts that Castiel couldn't begin to understand what they were for – he recognized 'axle' in one of them and 'bolts', at least – and costs of labor. It seemed a bit pricey, but it's not like he would know how to fix it, and it wasn't such a high cost that he felt like he'd been ripped off.

“Hey, Kevin,” John called to the young man still bent over his book. When he looked up, John said, “Dean's just putting in an air filter now, so I'll get your paperwork ready.”

“Thanks, Mr, Winchester,” the kid named Kevin replied, folding his book closed and stuffing it into a backpack in the chair next to him.

Castiel took out his credit card from his wallet, suddenly staring at the man before him. This man was a Winchester, somehow related to Dean. _His father, perhaps?_   Castiel could be looking at an older version of Dean, what he might look like in... twenty years or so?

His body had already gone through the automated motions of swiping his card and signing the paper that was given to him when John gave him a smile and another piece of paper. “That's your copy of the receipt. I'll have Dean bring the car around front for you. Meet him out there.”

“Alright. Thank you, John,” Castiel said, folding his paper and slipping it into his inner coat pocket. Shit, should he be calling him John so... casually? _No, I don't want to draw attention to..._ Castiel groaned to himself, aware that John had no idea who he was unless Dean had said something, and it was best for Dean to introduce them properly if he desired to in the future.

“Hope you consider us if you have car troubles again or just need some upkeep. Have a good day, sir,” John said, waving as Castiel was backing away towards the door.

Outside, Castiel hovered between the lobby entrance and the garage, tucking his hands into his trench coat pockets. It was only a few short minutes before he saw his car round the corner of the garage and pull up in front of him. The car was still running when Dean opened the door and stepped out.

Dean leaned over the roof of the car and said, “All yours, Cas.”

Cas stepped around the front of his car, stopping to stand in front of the open door so that it was a blockade between the two of them. “I hope it didn't give you too much trouble, Dean.”

“Nah, I had the easy job. Sam had a hell of a time trying to find the right parts though. Some, uh... classics like this sometimes prove more difficult to hunt down the proper parts. But he got them all.” Dean moved towards the back door, motioning for Castiel to take his place at the wheel. “Why a Lincoln Continental?”

Castiel shifted around the open door, remaining standing outside for a moment longer. “It was cheap... and I liked the color.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Eye of the beholder, I guess. Where'd you even get this thing? A repo auction? We found a whole hydraulics system hiding up in there. You... don't look like the pimp-mobile type.”

“You are an astute man, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said as he bent down and settled into the front seat. His eyes narrowed, and he looked up at Dean from the open window. “Is one of your favorite songs 'Carry On Wayward Son'?”

“Oh.” Dean's eyes widened in a moment of surprise, but he smiled with just a curve of his pink lips and answered, “Good one, but sorry, try again.”

“I will again when I see you next. Can I...” Castiel hesitated, eyes peering over the dashboard to the parking lot exit before he turned back to Dean. “Would you mind if I came here again for auto repairs?”

“I... guess that would be fine.” Dean shrugged. “Just, uh, don't tell my dad... or Bobby about our TiMERs? Sammy knows. Maybe don't tell Rufus if you come across him? I don't think he'd care, but I don't want to it slip to my dad or Bobby just yet.”

“So, no one, but Sam, basically.” Castiel didn't wait for a response. “The man I met in there, John. Is he your father?” he asked, pointing at the lobby windows.

“Yeah, you didn't... didn't say anything to him, right?” His brows furrowed, and he swallowed hard.

Castiel shook his head. “They're your family. It's not my place to say.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Part 4](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6070594/chapters/13914208) can be read at any point that you'd like. It's a prequel, detailing that one fateful night. ;) It's currently incomplete, but if you want to check it out... it'll reveal all eventually.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

A few weeks later, both of their lives carrying on as normal, they happened to be at that same bar, The Wishing Well, at the same time. Dean hadn't noticed Castiel's presence in the same far corner booth that he usually occupied with Balthazar and Gabriel – Kali was there this time, too. But Castiel noticed Dean who was with the same man from last time. He didn't go over to bother Dean though, just listened to his friends tease him about his soulmate. Kali, bless her soul, was keeping them mostly reigned in if they seemed to take a joke or a question too far.

Kali understood why Castiel wanted to wait, to let Dean come to him. Gabriel and Balthazar though kept insisting that he drown Dean in alcohol again for the sole benefit of seeing if he could get himself laid. He did already seem to be warming up to Castiel, but it's not like he wanted to overstep his bounds and risk Dean wanting to flee again.

So, for the evening, Castiel only went over to the jukebox and put in a few dollars and made a few requests. He went back to the booth and watched Dean as subtly as he could. Dean only reacted to the middle song, bobbing his head a bit more animatedly to the beat. Castiel typed “'Sweet Emotion' by Aerosmith” into his phone to ask about it at a later time.

Then a week after that, same bar at a similar time again. Castiel just set up a few new songs and noted Dean's reactions, careful not to give away to his friends exactly what he was up to. He was fairly certain that Dean had noticed him at some point though that night.

He didn't always to go that bar, and it wasn't the only place he went to see his friends or when he got out of the house, but it was significant because it was a place associated with Dean now. Castiel could come to this bar, and there was a slight chance that they could run into one another. His friends were intrigued that he usually suggested The Wishing Well when given a choice.

It had been about fives weeks since their TiMERs had claimed them to be matches, and when Castiel made eye-contact with Dean in the bar, he decided that he had run into him enough to finally speak to him. His brother, Sam, was with him this time, so Castiel didn't have worry about what the other man that Dean had been frequenting the bar with knew or did not know about him.

Dean blinked a few times, but gave Castiel a small wave as he stopped in front of their booth.

“Oh, hey, Cas,” Sam greeted with a dimply smile. Apparently, Sam had taken on Dean's nickname for him at some point in time which likely meant that Dean had been talking about him.

“Good evening, Dean. Sam.” Castiel nodded to both of them before turning his gaze intently to Dean. “I'll be brief. Is either 'Sweet Emotion' or 'Bad to the Bone' your favorite song?”

“They are not,” Dean answered.

“Then I bid you good night,” Castiel said and turned to go towards the back booth to meet with his friends again.

Dean watched a short-haired guy constantly peeking over at him from the booth that Castiel sat down in.

“What was that about?” Sam asked, sipping at his bottle of beer. His back was to Castiel's group, so Sam missed that same man wink in their direction followed by Castiel frowning and slugging him in the shoulder.

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, catching Castiel's eyes and holding the contact for a few seconds before he looked away and answered Sam. “I told him I'd give him my number if he could guess what my favorite song was.”

“When was this?”

“A month ago?” Dean tried counting back on his fingers but gave up to drink his beer. “That same day he came to the shop, I ran into him here later that night.”

Sam gave him an impressed nod. “You actually talked to him like a functioning human being?”

Dean snorted, not liking Sam's tone. “I wore my big-boy pants and everything.”

He would deny to his grave that he had dreamt of striking blue eyes staring up at him while the _person –_ woman, man, whatever – that they belonged to sucked him off that night. He would also deny having morning wood so painfully hard that he had had to take care of himself before he could get ready for work.

Almost a month later, when still nothing momentous had happened in their lives, Castiel picked five songs from the jukebox while Dean was drinking with his brother again. He watched Dean with each song, the other man not taking notice to the first two songs.

The third song had barely begun, just a few bars, and Dean exclaimed loud enough for practically the whole bar to hear. “Hell, yeah. This is my jam!”

He had his back to Castiel this time, but he could see Dean's head bobbing with the music, as Sam just shook his head and less animatedly joined Dean's enthusiasm for the song. Dean's arms started to flail around a bit with the beat when the chorus hit, and he swore he heard Dean singing along with it.

The next two songs were nothing exciting, so Castiel waited until he was ready to leave an hour later before taking any action. “Hey, I'm going to head out,” he told Balthazar since Gabriel wasn't with them tonight. “Be safe getting home.”

“You good to drive?” Balthazar asked him, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah, I'm good,” he said, holding up an empty bottle of beer, “Just had the one. You need me to call a cab for you?”

“Nah, I've got it. Thanks, Cassie.”

Castiel grabbed his trench coat from the bench seat and slipped it on, walking over to where Dean and Sam sat. Sam saw him almost right away, and he looked to be suddenly speaking low between clenched teeth. Dean's head whipped around the edge of the booth's back seat partition, and his eyes widened at the sight of Castiel headed their way.

“Uh, yo, Cas. What's up?” Dean said in way of greeting as Castiel stopped before them.

Castiel smiled, his teeth and gums showing with the biggest look of happiness that Dean had ever seen on him yet. “Is Led Zeppelin's 'Ramble On' one of your favorite songs, Dean?”

 _Lucky guess?_ Then Dean remembered that that same song had played earlier. He shook his head with tight lips and jabbed a finger at Castiel. “You... sly dog. Gimme your phone.”

Castiel handed it over without hesitation. The brief touch of Dean's fingers was warm against his own. Dean entered his phone number into the contacts and handed it back. “Good night, Dean. And Sam,” Castiel said as he retreated with his phone tucked safely into a pocket.

Once Castiel was out of the front entrance, Sam pointed out, “You just gave him your number.”

Dean's face fell suddenly. “Shit, I just gave him my number.” His head hit the table with a rather loud 'thunk'.

Dean anxiously awaited Castiel's call, but when one never came, he begun to worry for no explicable reason.

* * *

 

It had been almost three months since Dean had had to part with Lisa, almost three months since finding out that his soulmate was a man. It had also been a few weeks since he had heard from Castiel, not even a call or text when the other man now had his phone number. The wait was driving him a little crazy.

The TiMER on his right wrist, still completely zeroed-out, reminded him constantly that he had found his match. It had announced the very day and moment that they would meet. Technically, that point had been six months before that back in February, but to Hell if he knew how these TiMERs actually worked. Probably some technicality that even if someone had already met their soulmate, it would calculate the _next_ time that they would see them.

He supposed the experience had been like that for Bobby Singer. Dean couldn't remember who had come up with the dare or what the other stakes had been, but Bobby had gotten a TiMER – despite John's disapproval – and then a few days later during a gathering for Sam's twenty-first birthday, a friend-of-the-family, Jody Mills, still in her officer uniform fresh from work, popped in and the celebrations began anew with hers and Bobby's chiming TiMERs. Bobby had pushed past the people between them and kissed her soundly.

Dean had known of Bobby's interest in Jody, he'd been drunk around them often enough to admit it. He had never acted on it though, hung up on his late wife of seven years. It was a misery that Bobby and John had shared, neither wishing to tarnish the memory of their loved ones with frivolous new technology or a new romantic partner. It was sad to watch them both go through that, and Dean – and many others – were glad when Jody was there to help Bobby move fully past it.

Jody's interest in Bobby had subtly shown, spontaneous visits to the shop, home-made food brought to his house, _very_ light touches – she had smacked Sam in the shoulder one time for starting to point it out before she had pulled him to the side and told him to let Bobby figure it out for himself. When their TiMERs went off together at his birthday party, Sam hadn't even been mad that they had partly stolen the spotlight from him, he had pulled them into a big hug and had given Jody a knowing wink.

Dean and Sam's father had been happy for Bobby, of course, but had made working with him for the next few weeks a roller coaster of grumpiness. While Bobby was delightedly talking about how awesome Jody was, their father was terrible at trying to deal with his own grief over their mother, Mary. Dean had only been four when she had died in a house fire, Sammy not even yet a year old. Looking over at a calender with a picture of a robin egg blue '57 Chevy Belair with white trimming displayed for the month of November, Dean realized that, as of a few days ago, his mother had died twenty-three years ago. Himself, his brother, and his father used to go visit her grave on the anniversary of her death, but it had just been Dean that had gone last year. Her anniversary had crept up and passed by without him even noticing. He'd have to go apologize with a nice bouquet this Saturday when he next had the time off.

TiMERs hadn't yet been invented when Mary and John had fallen in love – the hormone or whatever it was that the technology could detect or react to barely being discovered. John swore that Mary had been it for him, even though almost twenty years after her death, Dean and Sam had discovered a _twelve_ -year-old half-brother up north in Minnesota.

Adam Milligan would be about nineteen now. They didn't see much of him recently since the boy had just started studying pre-med at the University of Wisconsin, but ever since his mother had contacted John per Adam's request, they had started going to visit once a year and Adam came to visit them twice a year – sometimes more, sometimes less, of course. It wasn't really enough time for Dean to form a real bond Adam; they were family, but since the kid was an only child to his mother, Dean felt sorry that he'd been missing out on growing up with a sibling. Sam could be an ornery brother, but he was still a pretty awesome one.

They had eventually dragged all of the information about Adam and his mother from John over time. John had met Kate Milligan after he had gotten injured during a hunting trip in Minnesota a few years after Mary had died; she had been a nurse at the hospital. It was sometimes difficult for Dean to remember that his father was a man with sexual interests just like him – well, apparently not _exactly_ like him... Bobby usually went with him, but he had stayed behind to watch the boys instead – Dean remembered playing catch with Bobby back then. One thing had led to another, and twelve years later, John had found out that he had another son. He wasn't a perfect father, but he had made an effort to make his presence in Adam's life worthwhile.

Dean was sitting on his couch with a random television series playing as background noise to drown out the pleasured screams and moans coming through the wall he shared with his neighbor, Meg, in his bedroom. Why couldn't they ever fuck at Azazel's place?

Dean realized then that it'd also been almost three months since he had gotten laid. That wasn't such a huge gap in his usual sexual liaisons, but he'd have normally noticed the lack of it by now. He had a soulmate now though, one that he had once had sex with and as memory served, had enjoyed it with him. In the event that the desire for sexual contact became too overbearing, Dean had no idea what the code-of-conduct would be for him. Would he screw Castiel out of desperation? Could he ask Castiel if he could screw someone else? Maybe ask for an open relationship; although, they weren't actually _in_ a relationship yet... Hire a hooker?

At least masturbation was tiding him over for now. Dean tried not to put too much stock on his imagination fantasizing about brunette women with pretty blue eyes.

Lisa was a brunette, soft waves of dark hair falling over her lovely shoulders. Dean found himself longing for her – not for sex at this moment, but just a familiar and comforting person to cuddle up with on the couch and make fun of terrible shows that they could find while surfing channels on the television. _Would Castiel be like that?_

Without knowing his intent or the end game, Dean fished his cell phone out of his sweats' pocket and called Lisa.

She picked up after the third ring. “Dean? What are you calling me for?” Lisa didn't sound upset to find Dean calling her, but her tone was certainly puzzled.

“I was just thinking about you,” Dean answered, twisting his body to lay completely over his couch. “Miss you, and wanted to see how you were doing. Are you busy?”

“You... shouldn't be calling me, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean acknowledged, grabbing the remote to lower the volume on the television. “And I'm sorry. Things are... complicated right now, and I wish you were here to talk to me. I got used to having you around, you know? It's sort of lonely without you.”

“Why isn't your soulmate keeping you company?” Lisa asked, nothing vindictive in her voice.

“As I said, it's complicated.”

“Are you two having a fight? I don't think she'd appreciate you calling your ex-girlfriend when you're supposed to be getting to know her,” Lisa tried to warn him.

Dean sighed and wondered for the umpteenth time if this was someone that he wanted to know about Castiel. “There's no fight. I'm just not ready.”

“It's been almost three months, Dean.” Dean could practically hear the mocking eye-roll through the phone. “We were barely going out for four months before we started talking about the future, and...” She trailed off suddenly. “What's wrong with her? She's everything you could want, Dean.”

“Lisa...”

“No, Dean.” Lisa's voice was starting to sound brittle. “We said our good-byes. We're supposed to be moving on.”

Dean's heart ached listening to Lisa trying to hold it together. “We can still be friends. Can I meet you for lunch or something? We could do it in a group setting. Nothing too intimate.”

“That's not a good idea, Dean.”

“Lisa, I swear I-” He drew in a deep breath and caved. “I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to commit to a man.”

The other line was so quiet that Dean worried for a moment that Lisa had hung up. But then she whispered harshly into the phone, “Oh my god, you're joking.”

“Serious as a heartbeat,” Dean replied, running his thumb over his bottom lip in a nervous twitch. “His name is Cas. Well, Castiel.”

“That's... an interesting name.” At least she didn't sound like she was about to cry anymore.

Dean nodded to himself, his lip twitching into a small smirk. “Yeah.”

“Tell me about him?”

“You want to know?”

“Yeah,” Lisa laughed. “If I'm going to be outshone by some dude, I'd like to know what he's got that I don't. I didn't realize... are you... gay?”

“Apparently just for Cas,” Dean said, running his hand over his face and quietly groaning. “I mean, you know I have celebrity man-crushes just like any other guy, but I'm not... it's hard to explain, Lisa. I'm not into guys, but my TiMER says that I am. I'm having a hard time believing it. Even I don't know what makes Cas special.”

“So, what is your status with him now?” Lisa asked. “Like, are you seeing him yet? What does he think about you? You have at least _talked_ with him, right? You didn't have some gay panic and run out on him?”

“Uh...”

“Dean Winchester.” Lisa was bringing out a mom-voice. “Geez, that poor man.”

“Hey, I've talked to him,” Dean tried to reason. “He's been... really patient with me even after two 'gay panics' in his presence.”

“What happened?”

So, Dean revealed all – well, _almost_ all – to her, starting with a brief version of their drunken one-night-stand before he had met her and how he had freaked the next morning, said some stupid shit, and got the door shut in his face. Lisa listened, making small remarks in between his pauses, nothing judgmental or bitter, just curious. He told her how they had met at the shop, and he had panicked again. They'd run into each at the bar a few times, and Cas had been keeping his mouth shut to his family and friends. Cas had his number because of an agreement...

“Agreement? What agreement?” was Lisa's question.

“I told him that he could have my number if he guessed my favorite song,” Dean explained, switching the phone into his other hand and trapping it between his jaw and shoulder so that he could scratch at an inch on his thigh. “Every time he saw me, he had another song or two to ask me about. He eventually got it right, of course, and I didn't realize that he'd been requesting songs on the jukebox, and I gave up the answer when 'Ramble On' started playing one time.”

Lisa chuckled. “Hey, as long as it was in a non-creeper way, I'd give a man that dedicated to getting my number more than my digits. He sounds adorable.”

“I'm still not sure how I feel about that,” Dean admitted. “He's a guy, so... I don't remember much of anything about the night that we spent together, but in our few other interactions, he's kind of serious and direct. Polite as fuck. I only know that he's an accountant. I don't know anything about what he likes, his interests.”

“Sounds like you need to set up a date to figure them out.”

“No, no dates.”

“At least work at being his friend,” Lisa told him, her voice going quiet. “He'll be in your life for a very long time.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah... I guess I wish I could start over with him. If we hadn't gotten drunk that one night, and we had met with the TiMERs first, I still would have been confused, but now it's a whole-different level of confusion. And I'm having to work out these _feelings_ , and fuck me, it sucks.”

“I'll trade you,” Lisa said. “I'd gladly take screwing some other woman and finding out she's my match half-a-year later over my TiMER situation.”

“You've got like seven months before you meet him... or her?” Dean remembered that her TiMER had said something in the range of ten months.

“Yep,” was all she said.

“What's the 'TiMER situation'?” Dean asked.

“Well, it's complicated,” she said wryly.

“Hey, I've bared my soul about Cas,” he teased back.

“According to the countdown's date, I'll meet him with a gigantic belly and ready to pop.”

“What?” Dean's jaw slackened, and he froze, his brain not quite cluing him in fast enough to what she had just said.

Lisa threw out a sentence that could make or break a man. “I'm pregnant.”

* * *

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Towards the end of this chapter, I have a friend of someone pop in that isn't supposed to be based on anyone from the show. Don't try to read into her character or anything, she's just there. I couldn't really think of who to use.

 

* * *

A thousand and one questions simultaneously appeared before Dean, startling him into complete silence. He didn't know which one to bring up first, which ones might be relevant, which ones Lisa would actually answer.

Dean shifted so that he was sitting upright again, facing the television. He went over the questions flying through his head again and snatched one up. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Lisa said, “Because we had broken up, Dean. We're supposed to be to be moving on. I've had some time to come to terms with and decide that this was to solely be my issue. Plus, I'll have someone else in my life sometime when the baby comes, so it won't be so bad. I won't have to be a single mother.”

While Lisa was talking, Dean had started doing the math and with seven months to go to find her match before she, er, _popped_ , she had to be two months along... which meant it couldn't be his since they had broken up before that... “How far along are you? Like two months?”

“Try thirteen weeks,” Lisa corrected. “You do realize that it works with menstrual cycles, and that pregnancy is actually about forty weeks long, right? Ten months, not nine. So, I got pregnant sometime in August. Maybe September.”

“We were...” _We were still dating during some of that._ Dean's heart was beginning to pound loudly in his chest, and he was taking in shorter breaths. He wouldn't panic. He wouldn't panic.

He was having trouble accepting his own soulmate, but now fate might be throwing a kid into the mix? What would Cas think? Lisa hadn't yet said it was his though. He knew she hadn't cheated on him while they were dating, but how long after they had broken up before she might have slept with someone else? How long of a window was there for her to get pregnant?

“There is a fifty percent chance that it is yours, Dean,” Lisa finally gave him some confirmation while he sucked in a shaky breath. “There was someone else like a week after we split up while I took a mini-vacation out of town. I don't know his last name, and I don't have any way to contact him. He wasn't exactly the fatherly type, so it's probably better that I can't get him involved since I don't really want to. And you, Dean, you...”

“I've got a soulmate,” Dean finished for her.

“You weren't supposed to call me,” she reiterated from before. “I could have gotten on with my life just fine without either of you knowing that you might have an illegitimate child.”

“Can you do a test to see which of us is the father?” Dean asked. “I'll give you hair, blood, urine, whatever you need.”

“Of course, but they pose risks and are more expensive during pregnancy. I don't really want to go that route,” Lisa said. “The tests taken after are safer and cheaper.”

Dean used the remote to turn off the television. “Can you do a test for me after the baby is born?”

Lisa hesitated, her voice slightly quivering. “You don't have to take responsibility for us, Dean. You were sharing your romantic woes, and I thought to get a load off of my chest as well. You shouldn't have to start off your life with your soulmate with something so complicated as this. I shouldn't have said anything.”

Dean sighed quietly, closing his eyes tight. “I... don't know what to think about this yet, Lisa, but you told me, so with even a slight chance that it's mine, I think we should at least confirm it or not.”

Lisa gave him a back-handed compliment, “I'm surprised you haven't freaked out on me.”

Dean chuckled. “I think I've had enough freak outs for this year. This one is... we had been talking about kids before, Lisa. Jesus, you could be having my kid, and we're _not_ soulmates?”

“Maybe it means the baby isn't yours?” she tried to tell him.

Dean shrugged to himself. “Who knows what these things even mean.” He paused as he looked down at his wrist and then asked, “So how is everything? Like, are you and the baby doing okay?”

“Yeah, everything is going according to schedule,” Lisa said. “The morning sickness seems to be easing up, so I can't wait until that's over. I got an ultrasound at my first appointment last month.”

“Yeah?” He perked up a bit at that. She had gotten to see the baby.

Lisa giggled quietly over the phone. “It was so small. Like a tiny bean.”

“When will it start looking like a baby?” Dean asked, actually curious. He remembered that they looked like human-dinosaur hybrids or alien for a bit.

“Hold on. Let me...” There was some shuffling on the other line before Lisa continued with, “I got a pregnancy book that shows a ton of pictures... It actually looks like a baby now, but its head is still big in proportion to the rest of its body. It says... it's about the size of pea pod?”

“Really? Already? That's...” Dean held up his hand, looking at his palm. “And it still has seven months to bake? What does it even do in there? God, that must be boring as hell kickin' it in the dark.”

Lisa yawned and started talking half-way through it. “I don't mean to cut you short, but growing a fetus is a bit draining, and I'm getting tired.”

“Oh, get some sleep then. Can I call you again?” Dean asked.

Lisa was quiet for just a moment before she answered, “Sure. Good night, Dean.”

“Good night, Lisa."

* * *

 

It was a Friday, and already, Castiel had opened his phone to the contact list to find Dean's phone number for the fourth time this week. How long had it been since he'd last seen Dean? In a matter of two months, he'd run into him three, no, four times? This last month? Not at all.

Castiel hadn't been avoiding the bar, but he had had an old friend of his, Zeke, that had died and in order to take the time for visiting and the funeral a few states over, he had had to work overtime at work to make sure the reports were done before he had left. He barely had the time to eat and fall asleep. His weekends off were spent catching up on errands and cleaning that he didn't have the time or energy for during the week. He'd gone to the Wishing Well bar once with Balthazar, but Dean hadn't been there.

He had Dean's number; he should just call him. Now that he had it though, Castiel realized that seeking it out had been a bad idea. His whole plan was to let Dean come to him, that he, himself, would wait it out. But it had been, what, three months since they had been matched? They'd had a few run-ins, and Dean had given him his phone number. Castiel was lousy at dating, stiff and awkward, but he realized that in many of his short-lived relationships, he wasn't the one asking someone out – they were usually voicing their interest to hang out before he did.

Castiel had been the one to ask Dean if he had wanted to get out of there that night so long ago if he remembered the events correctly. And Dean had followed. Maybe waiting for Dean wasn't the answer. Yes, Dean should come to him when he was ready, but if the results of the TiMERs were as accurate as what matched soulmates had said about each other, Dean would be there even if Castiel _pushed_. He wonder which tactic would be better. Which tactic would get their relationship moving in the right direction?

Currently, all he knew about Dean from fuzzy memories and brief meetings was that he was most likely bisexual and in denial or unaware, he was a mechanic, he wasn't married, one of his favorite songs was 'Ramble On', he seemed to have preference for classic rock, he had at least one brother and the employees of Singer-Winchester Auto were rather close, he had a friend that he frequented that bar with – Castiel had never caught his name, he liked flannel and plaid to wear, he didn't take to dealing with problems very well?, he was a great kisser and lover – he couldn't forget that, and, well, he was gorgeous.

Castiel put his phone back down on the couch beside him on the cushion and got up in search of a pen and some paper. He went for the small memo pad in a drawer in the kitchen where he kept his mishmosh of items that he didn't have a home for or would relocate later – like a dozen pens. He settled back on the couch with a pen and the memo pad, writing at the top, “Questions for Dean”.

He wrote for over an hour, scribbling down anything that came to mind. Castiel wrote in a few answers to things that he knew already. The list of questions became long enough to make him flip to a new page. Maybe he'd start texting Dean.

* * *

 

Castiel had the next Saturday off, and hoping that he'd run into Dean Winchester, he took his car in for a check-up. He kept a sheet of paper in his glove compartment that listed what maintenance was required or suggested with each mile marker. He hadn't had any work on it done since before his axle had been damaged three months ago, so it needed at least an oil and various filter changes and possibly a transmission service according to the mileage.

He stopped his car in front of the garage and left the keys in the ignition. Castiel stepped out to greet the short and gray-bearded man named 'Bobby'. He explained what he needed done, Bobby wrote down information on a paper on his clipboard, and then he was told to wait in the lobby. Castiel smiled when he walked inside the lobby, catching sight of Sam, Dean's younger brother.

“Cas! Hey, man, what's up?” Sam waved from behind the counter. “What'd you break this time?”

The redhead that Castiel had seen here the first time he had come for repairs was sitting in the lobby, and she perked up at the newcomer. Her name started with a 'C'? Her face lit up as she started, “You're...”

“Hello,” Castiel greeted them, turning to Sam, “Just in for maintenance. I assure you that I am not a bad driver.”

Quietly, Sam said, “If you're looking for Dean... he's off today.”

“Oh.” Castiel's tone hid the mild sting of disappointment as he leaned his hip on the counter near Sam. “How is he?”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Castiel. “You have his number. You can call him.”

“I...” Castiel deflated and shrugged his shoulders. “I am quite certain that he does not want me to.”

Sam coughed into his hand and looked away without a word.

The redhead stood up from her seat and came over to them, eyes bright and excited. “Give me some updates! Dorothy and I have been so busy planning our trip to Florida that I've missed out on some great gossip hanging out with you guys. Has Dean fallen hopelessly in love yet?” She looked expectantly at Sam.

Sam held up his hands by his shoulders and shook his head. “Not my place to say, Charlie.” He looked at Castiel again with a quirk of his brows. “He _has_ been waiting for your call though.”

Charlie clapped her hands once together and put them up to her wide smile. Castiel's gaze moved to the windows looking into the garage and watched Bobby bending over the open hood of his car while John was doing the same to the other car that was likely Charlie's in the next space. “Thank you for the attempted ray of hope, Sam,” Castiel said, sighing, “but I don't believe that.”

“Why not?” Sam and Charlie asked simultaneously.

“Jinx!” Charlie shouted, pointing and laughing at Sam who locked his jaw and bumped his fist lightly on the counter in defeat.

“Jinx?” Castiel asked, not knowing what that was supposed to mean.

Charlie held up her hand for Sam with pursed lips. “You've never heard of 'jinx'?” When Castiel shook his head, Charlie explained, “If two people say the same thing at the same time, someone yells 'jinx', and the person that didn't say it first can't say anything until someone says their name. So Sasquatch here has to stay silent for a bit.”

“And... what is the point of this... game?” Castiel's head tilted in curiosity.

Charlie shrugged. “Humiliation? Fun to watch them struggle to not talk, but if he violates the jinx, I get to punch him – in the arm, not the face – and he owes me a Coke.”

“Huh.” Castiel looked at Sam who had his lips pulled tight. “And he can be released with the use of his name?”

Charlie nodded. “And I could tell you that he likes long walks on the beach wearing only a glittery thong, and he can't do anything about it.”

Castiel watched Sam wave his hand in front of him and vigorously shake his head. Castiel's lips pulled into a smile, and he looked down at the redhead before him. “I have some friends who might like you. I'm surprised that I haven't yet heard of this 'jinx' game from them.”

Charlie dropped her chin and girlishly 'oo'ed at him. “It's a childish game, but you'll have to invite me to come play sometime. Where's your usual haunt?”

“The Wishing Well,” Castiel said. “I don't go out much except when Balthazar and Gabriel are involved. I, personally, enjoy losing some time on the couch with marathons of really great or really terrible television programming.”

She gently nudged Castiel in the arm with her elbow. “You're already part-way there with Dean then! He goes to The Wishing Well with Benny and Sam quite often. And he convinced me a time or two to sit with him to poke fun at bad television. He watches this one show, I think it's awful but almost hilariously so, and I still can't figure out what Dean's true opinion of it is. Dr. Sexy, if I remember right. I'm sure he's got a bit of a gay crush on the main character.” For the last bit, Charlie crossed her hand under her chin and brought it up to the side of her mouth, her voice low, and added a wink.

It made Castiel chuckle. He really shouldn't be learning things about his soulmate from anything but the source, but he was already questioning his wait-it-out plan. “I will have to look out for it then.” This little bit of information was harmless.

* * *

 

Dean was having lunch with Lisa and her friend, Emily, at a family-owned diner that Lisa had been craving. He had spent a few hours here or there with her a few times since she had told him that she was pregnant, and every time he had made her bring along a friend to prove that it wasn't ever a date. Lisa had been trying to keep news of her pregnancy under wraps, but she was starting to lose that battle with the small rounded bump under her shirt; she could only hide it with baggy clothing for so much longer. Emily knew about it though, had dragged it right out of them the last time that Dean had come to see Lisa. She seemed _very_ interested in Dean, but he flashed his wrist at her any time she got too close, and the woman quickly backed off. It had been one of the few times he had been glad for the TiMER.

He hadn't told anyone about Lisa yet. He didn't even tell Sam that he was seeing her again. Although Dean had no plans to pick up a romantic relationship with Lisa again, they all wouldn't see it that way. They'd badger him about his soulmate, because, geezus, after four months what was the hold-up? His father hadn't asked about it, but Bobby was bringing it up every now and then while they had down-time at work. It was getting harder to fend off his questions. Sam, obviously, knew _most_ of the situation, but he'd pester Dean when he came over some nights for dinner with the help of his own match, Jesse.

Dean bit into his burger. _Damn, that's pretty good._ His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket as he slurped some soda through a straw. When he dug it out, he found a text from Castiel.

“ _Can I ask about your family?_ ”

Dean regarded his phone and snorted a laugh. Were they seriously having the longest first date ever through the phone? Through _texting_? If Dean ever got the courage to start... _dating_ Castiel, what the hell were they supposed to talk about? Castiel had already asked about a lot of his favorites and was using up all the easy questions that were supposed to hopefully not scare your date off. Family almost always came up on a first date, but when he had one parent that died when he was young and another that hadn't exactly always been there and a half-brother tucked away in another state, it wasn't such a great choice of topics for Dean. It certainly wasn't a topic he wanted to cover in a text.

So Dean replied with just that. “ _Save that one for another time._ ”

“Who're chatting with?” Lisa asked from across the table, sipping at her pumpkin pie milkshake. Could they find something _not_ to flavor with pumpkin during the Fall?

Dean looked up at Lisa and Emily staring at him. “Uh... texting Cas.”

“How long has that been going on?” Lisa waggled her eyebrows at him with a suggestive smirk.

“A few weeks?” It had started right after he had found out that Lisa was pregnant. It was a really strange timing for Castiel to suddenly start contacting him then, but the little bits of conversation were able to distract him from thinking about Lisa and the baby too much. So Dean went along with it. Questions about his favorite things, his birthday, pets... whatever innocent stuff that he would tell friends if they asked.

While his match had been asking him questions – maybe one or two a week – Dean hadn't really returned the favor much. He still didn't know Castiel's birthday, but he had confirmed that the guy didn't have any pets either – he couldn't remember one from the that morning he had been trying to flee his house.

Castiel's next text was much easier to answer, but it was still something best asked when in person. “ _You have a sun tattoo on your chest,_ _right_ _? Any other tattoos or piercings?_ ” If Castiel were here, Dean could just pull down the collar of his shirt and show him. He couldn't believe that he had remembered the tattoo though; it wasn't really a _sun_ but at a quick glance or from far away, that made sense. It made Dean flush a little, remembering that Castiel had seen it because he had been _naked_ with the man at some point.

“Have you set up any dates yet?” Lisa asked.

Dean answered her with a shake of his head. “We're just texting right now.” He swiped his fingers across the digital keyboard to type out, “ _Just the one tattoo._ ” He couldn't remember any tattoos on Castiel's body; he stopped that train of thought the moment Castiel's muscled shoulders came to mind.

Lisa rolled her eyes at him and stabbed at her salad. “Wow, Dean. We were talking kids and marriage four months into our relationship.”

“You aren't a guy,” Dean mumbled.

“When are you going to ask Castiel out?”

Dean sighed, putting his phone down on the table. “Whenever I feel like it?”

Emily watched on, silent and trying her damnedest to hide her knowing smiles behind her club sandwich.

Lisa asked, “Do you have a picture of him?”

“Hmm?” Dean looked up from his phone while he was waiting for another text from Castiel. “A picture? No, I don't.”

Lisa put down her fork and gave him a small pleading smile. “Since you're on speaking terms with him... or just word terms...? Can you ask him for a picture? I'm tired of not knowing what this guy looks like.”

Dean was certain that Sam had gotten a picture of Castiel to show Jesse at some point these last few months, so he texted his brother. No way was he going to ask Castiel to send him a picture. He regretted that decision the moment he sent the text since Sam would want to know _why_ he wanted it. Everyone that Sam knew that knew of Castiel had seen him... but Lisa wasn't news to Sam yet. _Shit._ He needed to come up with an excuse fast.

Although Sam's text wasn't suspicious, he knew it was definitely mocking. “ _Of course you can have a pic of your soulmate!_ ” If Sam had been into emotes, there would have been a huge smiley face tacked onto it.

Dean clicked on the attached image that was actually of Castiel _and_ Charlie from the waist up. She was scooched up against him with a thumbs up and a wide open-mouthed smile while his shoulders were bunched tight, and he had a small and wary smile. The windows in the background looked like the ones in the lobby at the shop. _When had Sam taken this picture?_

He slipped the phone over to Lisa across the table. She put her fork down and picked up the phone as Emily scooted closer to her to take a peek at the phone

Lisa smiled. “Aw, I miss Charlie. How is she?”

Dean answered before he took a bite of his burger. “She just got back with Dorothy from a trip to Florida. Some Harry Potter thing opened up there. She's happy, healthy, and still in love.”

“Dorothy... yes, her match,” Lisa recounted. “I'm glad for the girl. Now. About your own match... He's very handsome, Dean,” she said coolly. Her friend nodded with a thumbs up.

“Yeah?” Dean wouldn't know how to judge the looks of another man, but sure, Castiel wasn't an eyesore.

“So brunette is your type then?” Lisa asked, glancing up at him with a smirk. “Or does he have black hair? It's hard to tell in this picture.”

“Uh...” Dean munched on a fry while he considered Castiel's hair for a moment. “Brown, I think... dark though.” He snorted and added, “The pic doesn't do his eyes justice either.”

Lisa nodded and squinted at his phone in her hand. “You mentioned them before. Blue, right? Combined with dark hair, that's not something you see everyday.” She hesitated and set the phone down. “Will I... Do you think I'll ever get to meet him?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno.”

“You still haven't told anyone about me, have you?”

“You wanted to keep it quiet,” Dean answered. “And I don't exactly know how to explain it to anyone. I'll tell Sam eventually. I... don't know what to tell Cas, or if it even matters.”

Lisa quietly said, “If it's yours, it'll matter a lot.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, forlornly moving a fry around on his plate. “I know. I don't want him to think you or the baby is why I'm not seeing him, you know?”

Emily finally chimed in with a derisive, “Oh, please. You know that's not true. Having a knocked-up ex-girlfriend with a might-be-yours baby is just one of many excuses for you not to date this guy.”

“Excuse me?” Dean snapped back at her.

She rolled her eyes. “With all your over-compensating macho man routine? And that shirt?”

Dean looked down at his plaid collared shirt and furrowed his brows. “What about my shirt?”

“You're parading the colors of the bi flag with it,” she explained, crossing her arms across her chest.

Lisa's eyebrows shot up her forehead as she stared at Dean's chest.

“I- Come again?” Dean faltered, pulling out the edge of his shirt to get a better look. “Are you friggin' kidding me? What are the colors?”

Emily named each color as she raised a finger from her hand. “Pink, lavender, and blue.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean groaned, finding each of the colors in his shirt as Emily had proclaimed. He pointedly waved a finger at Lisa. “Charlie damn well knew that when she threw this shirt into our cart. That is the _last_ time I take her shopping.”

Emily raised a brow and looked pityingly at Lisa. “You dated this guy? Crap, _and_ you might be having his kid.” She laughed bemusedly. “You're pretty to look at Dean, but wow, your soulmate has his work cut out for him, doesn't he?”

“Hey!” Lisa said, mockingly offended, with a wavering grin on her face. “Dean is great guy. I would be glad to have his beautiful babies.”

Emily snorted a laugh. “Ha, your kids would be pretty good-looking, wouldn't they?” She looked to Dean and shrugged. “Sorry, I've only met you a few times, but I'm over the crush I had on you after this conversation. Too much baggage. You should learn to stash some of that stuff away.”

“Gee, thanks,” Dean huffed, frowning down at his half-eaten food. “Good thing you're not my soulmate then.”

Lisa's friend read Dean's sudden sour mood and went back to eating her sandwich. The rest of the meal was consumed in relative silence until Lisa perked up his mood with an invitation.

Lisa told him, “I have another ob appointment in a few weeks. They said they might be able to determine the baby's gender. Do you... want to go?”

“You want me to go to an appointment with you?”

“It's not like the baby will sit still or it could be in a bad position,” she tried to explain, “They might not be able to see anything. You don't have to go, if you don't want to. It's a lot of sitting in a waiting room, peeing in a tiny cup, getting vitals taken, and then some more sitting in another room. Other than the ultrasound that I'll get this time, you're not missing out on much.”

“But... do you _want_ me to go?” Dean emphasized.

Lisa released a quiet breath. “I guess it would be nice to not go alone. You may or may not be the father, but you've voiced an interest in the baby, and I'm giving you the option to be as involved as you want.”

Dean smiled, shoulders dropping in relief. “Yeah, I... I think I'd like to. Have you looked for the other guy at all?”

“I've started to make a few inquiries,” Lisa said, “Nothing too serious since I got the sense that he probably won't care. But you wanted to know, so maybe he will? PI's are kind of expensive, and I have this friend that I was visiting at the time, so she's, uh, sending me pictures of guys from that bar we went to that match the general description.”

“Kind of makes me wonder if I've got any other illegitimate children that I don't know about.” Dean huffed a laugh. “I've slept with plenty of woman to probably bring up a few surprises.”

“Any new encounters?” Lisa asked, her eyes curious.

Emily looked at Lisa sideways, but otherwise kept taking bites of her sandwich.

“Encounters...?” Dean grimaced and then shook his head. “Pfft. I don't kiss and tell.”

“So you're... being faithful to Cas?”

“I, uh...” Dean cleared his throat, glancing away from Lisa to stare at a salt shaker on a table near them. “Guess I just haven't felt the urge?”

“Lucky you,” Lisa said with a shake of her head. “My pregnancy hormones took me from barfing my guts out to horny bimbo the last few weeks. Almost the moment the morning sickness was over, bam, I'm craving sex. So don't you dare end up alone with me Dean, because I will probably pounce on you.” She looked over at Emily with a cheesy grin. “Gotta take a third wheel with me.”

Dean laughed with Lisa. “Yeah, I'd help you with that if I could.”

Emily shook her head and said, “Not something that I can help you with. I may be a supporter, but chicks ain't my thang.”

“Do you need a hookup or something?” Dean asked. “Most everyone I know has found their match, but if anyone asks for sex with a desperate pregnant chick, I know where to send them.”

Lisa chuckled and took a long sip from her shake. “Another month of this, and I probably won't even be offended by that.”

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I briefly mentioned the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Orlando. I know it only opened in 2014, but I'm not following an exact timeline here... XP


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but action-packed chapter. I'm not too good with writing action, I hope it reads alright. I feel this chapter may need some warnings, but I don't want to spoil anything? Let me know if you think I should add some tags or at least a chapter warning here in the notes. :)

* * *

Castiel was sitting with Hannah during their lunch break at a local coffee shop, sipping his cappuccino while watching the people walk by outside through the large windows. Everyone – save for a _special_ few – were bundled up against the January cold in various assortments of coats, scarves, hats, and gloves. He was keeping nice and toasty right here inside.

“So, how is it going with your soulmate?” Hannah asked him quietly, peering at her own TiMER – still four-and-a-half years to go – as she lifted her mug to drink.

“I haven't heard from him in almost a month,” Castiel said with a frown. “He was responding to my texts for awhile, but then he suddenly stopped.”

“Was it something you said?” She murmured over the top of her hot tea.

Castiel tucked his hand into his thick coat pocket and ran his fingers over the smooth surface of his phone. “I'm not sure. Maybe. I asked him what he wanted his future to be like. Taking over the shop, white picket fence with a house full of kids, being the grumpy old man that chases kids off of his lawn...”

Hannah set her mug down and gazed at him from across the table with her pale blue eyes. “I am no expert on relationships, but I believe you're supposed to wait to talk about the future until after you're established in the relationship.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side with a frown. “So I screwed up?”

Hannah gave him a small shrug. “Possibly. Maybe change the subject, and ask him something more neutral.”

“He'd been answering everything else,” Castiel said, thinking about their past texts. “At some point, it turned into something more personal when he was talking about his brother getting married.”

“Oh? When is that happening? Do you think he will invite you?”

“I think he said this Spring. And I didn't ask who his 'plus one' would be.” He gave Hannah a small smirk. “That's probably another established relationship thing to ask.”

Hannah nodded, smiling before she picked up her tea again to take a long sip.

For the next ten minutes, their conversation moved from waiting on soulmates to Hannah's pet cat named Lucifer – that thing really was the Devil – and finally to work. They set the mugs used by the little mom-and-pop cafe into the almost full plastic bin with the other cups, plates, and utensils near the trash can as they left, giving the owner, Ingrid, waves at the door. It was only a short walk to the building that Milton Accounting offices were located, and it certainly beat sitting around the stuffy office for an hour. Both of them were glad when they had discovered it years ago while taking a walk to find exactly what they were looking for in Ingrid's cafe.

Hannah was wrapping her scarf tight around her neck and face while Castiel hunched his shoulders to curl in for a little bit of his own body heat under his long black over-coat. Castiel wasn't too bothered by the cold; hated it less than the heat. His breath came out from his mouth and nose in thin wisps of clouds. A couple were squishing themselves tightly against each other's sides, sharing one ridiculously long and rainbow-striped scarf, as they walked past Hannah and Castiel. A lone man on the corner ahead of them with an army green beanie shoved down over his ears was blowing thick clouds through his hands and shuffling his feet on the pavement.

Castiel watched the traffic go by, cars driving past throwing drafts of cold air over the pedestrians on the sidewalk. He took notice of cars slowing down in the intersection and starting to honk suddenly, and he looked far enough ahead to see someone still working their way across the crosswalk. People were just too impatient.

And in the following moment, there were at least two people that weren't paying attention: the driver of a black sports car and the man at the corner with the beanie. The sports car swerved at the last second to avoid the cars that hadn't made it through to the other side of the intersection when the light had changed, and Castiel followed the horrifying projection that the car was skidding straight towards the sidewalk where that man was standing. The moment happened in seconds, but Castiel was running towards the lone man at the corner, trying to shout at him, and thanking God that no one else was there. The man was barely looking up at the commotion when Castiel ran at him from the side, grabbing him around the middle in a full-body tackle that sent them flying to the ground.

When the world went black, Castiel worried that he hadn't launched them far enough away from the path of the car.

* * *

 

Dean was standing around, waiting for his brother to come out of the used book store, so that they could move on to the next store. It was stupid that he was standing out in the cold, but he was getting fed up with the lady associate that kept following him around the store and asking if he needed help as an excuse to get close to him. She was pretty and nice – albeit a little annoying – but his hands were full enough as it was between the male soulmate that he was still on the fence about and the woman who could possibly be carrying his child. Too many ifs in his life right now; Sammy getting married this year was a positive that he was clinging so desperately to.

He had been so happy when he had gone over to their house for dinner, and Jesse had nearly smacked him in the face with her hand and that shiny diamond ring twinkled on her finger before he could fully get the door open. A joke about Sam knocking her up had been the first thing on his tongue when Jesse was showing off her ring, but he had bit down down on it quickly. He still hadn't told anyone else about Lisa's pregnancy. If he told his family and friends that there might be a baby in his life around the same time he had found his soulmate... Dean was a mess.

He stomped his boots around on the ground, keeping his body moving for some warmth as he blew into his bare hands. His jacket wasn't nearly thick enough, but at least he had something to cover his ears. He listened to the noise of the traffic.

Something was off... and _oh, shit_. Dean's 'flight or fight' instincts barely had time to register the car barreling towards him before something else came flying at him from the side, and it smashed him into the concrete. _F_ _uck, fuck, fuck!_ The sound of glass and metal crashing was deafening, and Dean curled over the body half-under him as he squeezed his eyes shut, his muscles tight and adrenaline soaring.

The commotion of people started clambering above him, and Dean tried pushing himself up. His right shoulder hurt like hell, and he caught his bearings well enough to assume that was because it had hit the ground the hardest; otherwise, he felt... okay? Hands were on him, touching his back and head. Voices were crowding around him with words of concern.

None of that mattered when Dean pulled himself far back enough to finally see what he was laying on – the person that had grabbed him and had shoved him out of the way of a car. _Cas..._

“Cas!” he shouted, shuffling back onto his knees and grabbing fistfuls of the man's coat before his hands moved up to wrap around the sides of his face. “Cas, buddy!” Castiel was unmoving, eyes closed, and Dean started to panic until he saw the puffs of breathy clouds coming from his nose and lips. _He's_ _still alive. Thank God,_ Dean thought while patting Castiel's cheeks. “Hey, wake up, man.”

Dean vaguely noticed someone else calling Castiel's name, and he searched the crowd until a woman with curly brown hair in a gray pants suit, black wool over-coat, and a pale pink scarf dropped to her knees next to him. “Oh my go... Castiel...” she whispered, out of breath. She looked up at Dean with real concern in her eyes. “Is he alright? Are _you_ alright?”

“I... he's breathing, at least. I think I'm okay.” Dean's hand moved to more firmly cradle Castiel's cheek off of the cold pavement, and he used his free hand to pull off his beanie and put it under Castiel's face to put up a barrier from the cold. His hand grazed the back of his head and came back with blood. “Shit, he's bleeding! He must have hit his head.” He turned to the gathering of people and shouted, “I hope one of you already called 9-1-1!”

A few more people were kneeling down around them, asking to be of assistance, but Dean paid them no attention until a man in all black was claiming to be a doctor. “If he's hit his head, he could have a concussion, or swelling. Here, we will need to stabilize his head and neck. We'll need something thicker to put under his head to align it with his spine since we don't want to move him.”

Dean was ripping off his jacket in record speed and folding it up to stick under the space between Castiel's cheek and the concrete that the doctor had created.

The woman unwrapped her scarf and handed it to the doctor. “For the bleeding?”

The doctor was bending over, looking through the mass of dark hair, and Dean couldn't see how bad it was, but then the guy said, “I don't see any debris or protrusions. The bleeding doesn't seem life-threatening...” He placed a folded portion of the scarf over the back of Castiel's head. “He's unconscious, but breathing is a good sign.”

Dean was listening intently, nodding. _When is the ambulance going to show up already?_ He may very well lose his soulmate before he ever gave him a chance... because the fucker wanted to play hero and save him from imminent peril. _Dammit..._

He glanced back at the corner he was standing on, rubbing his sore shoulder – that would probably hurt like a bitch tomorrow after the adrenaline wore off. There were clear dark tire tracks surrounding where he had been only minutes before. He followed the tracks to find the car was...

_Holy_ _shit_ _._

The black sports car – a Jaguar F-type, Dean noted, _Not a cheap car._ – had skidded right into the corner building, the front entrance completely and utterly destroyed. Glass was everywhere, and the entire front end of the car was _inside_ the building. If it looked bad out here, the damage inside must be...

_Sammy is in that store._

Dean shot up, wavering on his feet unsteadily for just a moment – a nearby hand shot out to hold him at his elbow – before he rushed over to the building, screaming, “Sammy!”

Someone was holding out their hand in front of him. “There's not enough space to get through, man!” he was trying to explain, “They're all going out the back.”

Dean was running and looking for a way around the building before the man could say anything further. The sidewalk was crowded with curious onlookers, and Dean found an alley two stores down. The alley lead to a small parking lot around to the left that sat behind the various shops and offices on the strip. “Sammy!” Dean yelled again, eyes flitting over the group of people back there. Some were sprawled out on the ground, tracks of blood leading from the back door, while others were trying to tend to them.

Sam wasn't out here, which meant he had to still be inside.

Dean squeezed through the open door, saw a woman struggling to drag an elderly man through what looked to be the stock room, and so he offered another shoulder – _fuck, that was bad idea_ – for the man to hold onto while they rushed him outside. He dove back in and started yelling frantically inside the store. The lights were all still on, but it seemed dimmed in the store with the car blocking most of the light from the windows. There was a crap-tonne of dust in the air which made him sneeze.

“Dean!”

He practically knocked over displays of cards trying to get to the source of that voice. A few books on the floor managed to trip him up, and he crashed to his knees, but he was up and favoring his left leg a little when he finally got towards the front of the store and found Sam.

“Dean, hey! Help me out here,” Sam said, covered in white flecks but looking completely unharmed.

Dean dropped to his knees, wincing at the sharp pain, and threw his arms around his brother. “Sam...” He wanted to cry. He sniffled into Sam's dusty jacket.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam asked, returning the tight hug. “Did you see what the hell happened outside?”

Dean pulled back and looked at the front bumper of the black Jaguar totally mangled, more glass and chunks of concrete and plaster building scattered everywhere. Sam was kneeling over a woman – the same employee that had been following him around earlier – whose ankle was pinned under a long board that was wedged under the car.

“No, I...” Dean started, quickly assessing the damage before him, “Let's get her out first.”

Luckily, another person came to them and between Dean's beaten up shoulder, Sam's exhaustion at trying to help her on his own before, and the other guy's wrapped-but-bleeding forehead, they were able to maneuver the board up enough from the car to slip her foot out from underneath it. There was oil and anti-freeze leaking from the car and soaking into the thin red carpet. Dean favored his shoulder, remembering the mistake he had made earlier trying to help someone else out. He didn't want to make the head-bandaged guy do it, but Sam took care of that without a word when he picked up the woman bridal-style like it was nothing and went for the back door.

Dean and the other guy did a quick search through the room, and satisfied that no one else was stuck in here, they joined the bustle of people outside. There were already two ambulances in the small parking lot, paramedics tending to the battered and bleeding. Sam was nearby, shaking debris from his hair and brushing off his jacket. A few people were touching him and thanking him. Sam shook hands and accepted hugs with smiles.

A paramedic came to Dean then, a woman with her blond hair pulled into a tight bun. “Do you require medical assistance? Anything hurt? Do you feel dizzy or light-headed?”

Dean blinked and rubbed his shoulder. “I, uh... banged up my shoulder, but I'll live.”

“Would you like me to take a look? Can you move it at least?”

Dean rolled his arm slowly with a bend at his elbow just in case. He winced at the strained muscle. “Nah, I'll be fine. Thanks though,” Dean answered, watching his brother going to the back of one of the ambulances and waving to someone inside.

The female medic nodded and simply said, “Maybe ice it when you get home and take some pain medication. If bruising appears bright purple or blue, you may want to go to a doctor to rule out a serious injury.”

Dean nodded back as she turned to leave. Sam stepped up next to him. “All clear?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Fuck, what a day. You playing hero or some shit?” His started laugh was cut short when he had remembered what had happened at the front of the building. “Son of a bitch.” He left Sam without an explanation. He ran back around the buildings, pulling his arm in close to his body so that he wasn't jerking it around.

By the time he got to the front of the store, the cops already had the area roped off. And Castiel was gone. _Shit._ There were a few police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance out here. Dean watched the wrecked car for a moment as firemen were working with that claw contraption they called the 'jaws of life' to get into the car. Had the driver even survived that? They had been trapped inside the car this whole time.

His labored breaths forced out huge clouds from his mouth, and although he didn't have his jacket, he was too worked up to really notice the cold.

Dean caught the attention of a police officer who ignored him until he saw Jody Mills, Bobby's soulmate, and started yelling her name. “What are you-” she started as she turned to him.

Dean cut her off, pointing to the ground behind her. “The guy that was here. Where did he go?”

Jody gave him a look of surprise and glanced back at the ambulance. “You were here when this happened? There were two men here. One was taken to the hospital and the other took off shortly after the incident. Did you see who it was?”

“Yeah, _me_ , Jody. Sam was inside this store, and Cas was being taken care of by a doctor. I had to make sure my brother was okay,” Dean quickly explained.

“You were _both_ here? _Christ_. Are you okay? Is Sam okay?” She reached out and started fretting with his coat.

Sam appeared next to Dean and answered for himself, “Yeah, Sam's good. I was dragging people out the back door. Medics have it covered though.”

Jody started fretting with Sam, her nose crinkling in worry. “Go to the doctors. Both of you, even if you feel fine. Call your father and Bobby, or I will,” she ordered in her mom-voice. If Bobby was like a father to them, Jody had easily filled the role of surrogate mother at times. Didn't matter that they were grown men. “Shit, I can't take your statements.” She blinked hard. “Had no idea you two were even here.”

Both brothers put an arm around her, and she squished her cheeks between their shoulders. “Hey,” Dean said calmly, “we're both okay.” As they pulled away, Dean jerked his chin to bring back attention to the ground behind her. “Jody, what hospital did they take him to?”

“Lawrence Memorial,” she said. “If you're the man that took off, it means the guy that they took there saved your life. I need to send him a giant medal. Is that the Cas you mentioned earlier?”

“They took Cas to hospital? What happened, Dean?” Sam demanded.

“I don't know, Sam!” Dean snapped. “One minute I was standing there, and the next, someone was shoving me to the ground. I look up, and it's Cas, and his head is friggin' bleeding, and then you were in the store that the jackass decided to remodel into a parking garage, and I don't know what happened!”

“Breathe, Dean,” Sam said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I'm sure Cas is okay.”

“Who's Cas?” Jody asked, hands light on her hips.

“Castiel,” Dean started to answer, looking over at Jody. He could have fucking died today. He swallowed hard as he choked out the words, “he's my... s-soulmate.”

* * *

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some research on concussions and bruised shoulders and morphine, but some stuff may still be wrong. I'm welcome to altering any medical inaccuracies.

* * *

Castiel woke up once, briefly, in a room that was all white walls and blue curtains hanging from the ceiling. He turned to the left towards the sound of a steady beeping. “Where?”

He couldn't hear the woman that was there very well, but he caught the words 'hospital', 'head', 'tests', and 'later'. She looked like she was changing a bag of something above his bed. Castiel looked down at his left arm and saw something taped to his wrist.

His head was foggy, so he minutely nodded, and fell back to sleep.

Castiel came to again later – he had no idea what time it was or for how long he had slept. He blinked his eyes open wider and sat up in the stiff bed to roll his shoulders and stretch out his limbs. He didn't know why he was even doing that when he felt so utterly relaxed. The bed may have been stiff, but he was sitting in a cloud for all he knew.

He scratched at the tickle on his nose, noticing the line pressed into his wrist again. He looked to his right arm at his TiMER; it still read all zeroes which made him smile, but focusing on Dean was a little hard... he let the thought go and leaned back in the bed against the pillows to follow the IV line to the bag hanging from the metal rack next to his bed – probably a Saline drip.

He was itching his nose when a female nurse in light purple scrubs came in. “Oh, you're up. How are you feeling, Mr. Novak?”

“Mmm,” was his response to her with a closed-eye smile.

She put her hands into the low front pockets on her blouse. “That would be the morphine doing its job then. I'm Meg, and I'll be with you for the next six hours before my shift is over.” The nurse came up to the side of his bed, pointing out some buttons on the frame. “If you need anything, this one is to call for assistance. Pillows, hungry, in pain, something feels wrong, let someone know.” She started rattling off what some of the other various buttons did and added, “Let us know if any changes in lights are bothering you.”

Meg's smile widened, and she dropped her arm over one of the machines next to his bed with more buttons. “And here's your best friend. You can can change your morphine drip as you feel the need. It's set a bit high right now since we thought you might be waking up soon, so you should feel extra good. Are you following all of this?”

Castiel nodded, slowly. His mouth felt cottony. “Drink?” he asked.

She had on a TiMER that also had a bunch of zeroes; checking the TiMER of each new person that he met was still a habit. “Yes, I can get you some water. I'll let them know you are awake, and we can get a doctor in to test your functionality. Make sure everything is firing up there as it should be.” Meg left with a pat to his knee.

He scratched at his nose again while trying to work out why he was in the hospital. He seemed to remember it, but frankly, he just didn't care at the moment. Castiel felt warm and great. He fell asleep again.

Someone was calling his name, and he blinked his eyes open to find a balding gentleman hovering over him. “Ah, there we are,” the man said. “Took a short nap, I see, but if you are up for it, I would like to pick your brain. Your CT scan looked clean, so no bruising or internal bleeding. Let's just be cautious. Going to lower your drip for a bit. You can turn it back up afterward, if needed.”

The doctor lead him through a series of questions first – the obvious, like his name and the date, the current president, how many fingers he was holding up. 'Good' the doctor had told him. He recited a few words, asking for Castiel to repeat them, and a few more exercises to test how well he could pay attention, learn, and remember.

Then he asked Castiel to tell him what he remembered from that day. A headache was starting to throb at the back of his head, and Castiel lifted up his hand to touch at a bandage and gauze wrapped around his head.

“I hit my head,” Castiel said, knowing that was the case but almost startled that he hadn't drawn the conclusion himself when he had first woken up.

“Yes, Mr. Novak.” The doctor nodded. “That's what these tests are for. Do you remember how it happened? Any memories before the injury occurred?”

“I was with Hannah. Coffee shop.” He realized that forming sentences were giving him some trouble; his speech wasn't slurred, but it was slower... He mentioned it to the doctor.

“Some of that may be the effects of the morphine, but we will keep an eye on it,” he explained. “Please continue as best you can.”

So, Castiel did. “We were walking back. Traffic... and a man blocking the crosswalk. A car swerved. I saw... saw someone in its path. I tried to get him. And... hit my head. I blacked out.”

The doctor nodded, tapping his pen on his clipboard. “How are you feeling now? With the morphine down, are you noticing the pain? Scale of one to ten. One being a happy smiling face and ten being a crying and angry face.” He mocked up the number one and ten faces with his own as he said them.

“Yeah,” Castiel answered. “A three, maybe? Feels manageable. I feel more in control now than before. Could I use a phone? Is my phone here?”

The nurse, Meg that he recognized from earlier, was hovering in the back of the room, and she stepped forward to point at something to the left of his bed. “Your personal effects are in the top drawer, including your phone.”

“Because you've likely suffered from a concussion, I recommend letting your brain rest. Give it some time before you use the phone. Wait longer before you text or do any typing. Do you have any family in the area?” the doctor asked him.

“My sister, Anna, lives here,” Castiel said, “and I work for her mother, Naomi.”

The doctor nodded with pursed lips. “Just some physical tests to do, but your sentences seem to be picking up a little already. You remembered your sister who is waiting out in the hall for you. I didn't want you relying on help to cheat your way through the memory tests.” He winked.

“Anna's here?”

The nurse was standing at the end of his bed, and she nodded at him. “She came while you were sleeping. I can go get her. Or we can wait until the tests are done.”

“I'm sure she's worried. You can let her in,” Castiel told her.

The doctor had started tossing the blanket off of Castiel and was helping him sit upright in the bed when Anna walked in. Her eye make-up was a bit smeared, but her otherwise outwards appearance looked calm, albeit forced. She quietly walked up to the opposite side of the bed from the doctor and reached for Castiel's hand. He squeezed it with hers once, and she dropped it – a wordless gesture to assure her that he was alright.

The doctor went back to testing Castiel, running the bottom of the blue pen over his palms and arms to test sensation. He continued with pushing on Castiel's arms, asking him to lift them. He repeated similar motions with his legs and feet. Castiel followed the pen around with a light shined in his eyes. He noticed the doctor's TiMER on his left arm that showed a number around fifty days. Castiel had to get up to walk around, and he heard the crinkle of a pad that was apparently in his boxers. He considered that was far better than getting a catheter or soiling himself while he was unconscious, so he didn't let it bother him.

He had to do a few more things, but eventually the doctor gave him an all clear and said, “Everything seems to be doing well. You had a laceration to the back of your head, but nothing too deep. Just some stitches. You'll need to set up a check-up appointment in a few weeks to make sure they've dissolved properly, and the nurse will give you a paper on how to care for them at home. Your memory and other brain functions mostly check out. A few answers took a little longer than should be necessary, but after some rest, we'll cover that again during the check-up. Your physical strength, balance, reflexes... all of that, seem to be normal with the morphine in your system. Although I'm sure you're up for walking and other daily activities, you'll still want to go easy if your head starts to hurt. You'll get another paper about concussions that the nurse will go over with you, so remember to come back if you notice any new symptoms.” The doctor clipped the pen onto his clipboard and rested his arms over his stomach. “Any questions for me?”

“When can I leave?” Castiel asked.

“Because you lost consciousness, the nurses will need to keep an eye on you for another few hours, but as long as no new symptoms appear, you can leave this evening. We won't need to keep you overnight. I'm sure this lovely lady will take you home since you should not be operating heavy machinery for a few days.”

Castiel sighed in relief and thanked the doctor. The nurse hovered for a few minutes longer after the doctor left to ensure he was feeling alright before she, too, left with a promise to return every half-hour.

Anna sat down on the bed next to his legs. “Hannah called me to tell me that you were injured. She wanted to go with you in the ambulance, but they wouldn't let her so she rushed back to work tell Mother what had happened. I'm... I'm glad you're okay, Cassie.” She set her hand on his knee. “Mother will come visit you if you want her to, but she had some work to get done, so she said she would at least wait until you were awake.”

“I can leave later today, so Naomi doesn't need to take the drive,” Castiel said.

Naomi was his boss and step-mother, soulmate to his own mother. They had met almost five years ago as their TiMERs had predicted when his mother had stopped by to take him out for dinner. Castiel tried not to think about their relationship too much; it was rather painful for all parties involved...

But Castiel had gained a step-sister, Anna Milton, out of it. She had gotten a TiMER at the same time as Naomi for her seventeenth birthday. Castiel couldn't remember the exact time, but by now it was still eight years away; she'd be about the same age as he was when she met her match. She was a sweet girl with fiery red hair. Not so much a girl since she was twenty-two, but she was small and pretty; although, she had the fiercest expressions when someone got in her way. She didn't throw tantrums, but boy, if looks could kill...

“Hey.” Anna caught his attention with a quick knee pat. “Mother and I will work out a schedule to keep someone in the house with you. Are Gabriel and Balthazar off at any point this week? We can include them in the rotation. Anyone else? Has... Dean come around yet?”

Castiel shook his head, momentarily regretting the movement as his head sliced with pain. He reached for the morphine box and hit the 'up arrow' button once.

“I'm sorry, Cassie.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes before Anna asked, “Would you like me to stay? I left a mess at home when I got the call. I'd like to take care of that, grab some clothes, and then I can come back to pick you up and stay with you tonight. Is that alright? If I use the futon in your office?”

“Yeah, that's fine, Anna. You can go home first. Thank you.”

“Call if you need anything. I can bring it with me or if I need to go to the store.” She hesitated a moment, but leaned down for a brief hug anyway. “Anything at all, Cassie,” she whispered next to his ear.

* * *

 

Dean and Sam had gone to the hospital under Jody's insistence, Sam driving his own car since that's what they had taken on their shopping errand. Waiting in urgent care had taken _hours_ for them to give Sam an all clear with what little tests that they did after they had started the process with Dean. Their insurance was decent, but this trip was still probably going to cost them at least $50 each out-of-pocket and a bill for more money later.

“Holy shit!” Sam shouted in response to Dean taking off his shirt for the nurse and doctor to examine his right shoulder.

Dean looked down at it with a grimace. No wonder it hurt, the damn thing was bright-ass purple, and the bruise was fucking _huge_. He didn't remember hitting it that hard... _I guess it_ _'_ _s better than the other option of becoming a gruesome display in_ _the book_ _store._

“Looks like an intramuscular bruise,” the white lab-coated doctor diagnosed. “Got some broken blood vessels all the way down to your muscle. Nothing looks like a hematoma though, so we won't need to drain anything. How's the pain?” He pointed at a poster on the wall with cartoon faces of progressively worse emotions. “From one to ten.”

“Five or six?” Dean answered, trying not to touch or look at his arm. It was starting to throb something fierce now that he had become more aware of it.

The doctor gave an impressed nod. “You must have a fairly high pain tolerance. The nurse can give you a shot for immediate pain relief, and then we'll give you a prescription for some naproxen to take home. Any allergies to medication?” He continued when Dean shook his head, “We'll want to take an x-ray to rule out a break. And you will need to wear a sling to prevent further injury regardless of whether bone is broken or not.”

Dean groaned. Trying to use just his left hand was going to suck.

Another hour later in another waiting room sitting in a wheel chair with a sling wrapped over his shoulder and across his ribs and an ice pack draped over his shoulder, he got in to take x-rays. Sam sat with him the whole time, either quiet or chatting about nothing of importance. The drug they gave Dean for the pain was making him a little sleepy. His brother reminded him that he could remove the ice pack after fifteen minutes. After the x-rays were done, Sam clapped the ice pack back on his shoulder and made him keep it there for another fifteen minutes.

Sam let Bobby know what was up when he got the call, saying he'd text if there were any updates. It reminded the brothers to call their father as well and then Sam's fiance. John had insisted on coming to the hospital, but Sam assured him that he was taking care of Dean and repeated that he'd pass any new information on. Jesse was a bit more shrill about her reaction, and Sam had to hold the phone away from his ear.

“I'm fine, Jess. I swear,” he told her over the phone. “Yes. Yes.” A few more yeses accompanied nods. “Jess, he'll be fine, too. Dean's a tough – okay, okay. I'll ask him.” Sam looked over at Dean, holding his hand over his phone. “Hey, Dean. Jess wants to know if you'd like to stay in our spare bedroom.”

“We don't know that I'm broken yet,” Dean argued.

Sam shrugged. “She's offering the help, if you want it, and you'll probably need it. I wouldn't mind you being closer to keep an eye on you, and I know it would keep Dad from popping in on you all of the time.”

Dean warily agreed.

When the doctor came in with a black sheet and stuck it up in the light for Dean to see, Dean thought he had wasted all this time since there wasn't a break to be found. “Best to be certain,” the doctor had assured him.

A nurse with lime green scrubs that had little white daisies on the top came in to give him and Sam release papers. She handed them a few more papers about intramuscular bruises and hematomas – something to keep an eye out for. She gave Dean a few instructions to use the sling to prevent major movement, but to take it off every so often for tasks like changing and bathing to keep the arm from getting _too_ stiff. The nurse repeated the instructions for the ice pack with 'on for fifteen minutes, off for forty-five minutes' until he went to bed for the night to keep down the swelling and bruising. And finally, she explained that he should keep his shoulder elevated above his heart, so he should try to sleep on his left side. Dean would have to prop up pillows around him in bed – he tended to flip over onto his stomach while he slept.

As they were sitting in front of a woman with a computer going over insurance coverage, Dean leaned towards Sam and said, “Can we go find Cas before we leave?”

“You want to see Cas?” Sam asked, sounding surprised.

Dean scoffed and would have crossed his arms over his chest had one not already been fastened tight against him. “Minus the busted shoulder, he saved my life, man. Of course I want to see him.”

“Do you... want to stop at the hospital's gift shop? Get him some flowers or something?”

“He's a dude, Sam. A man don't want flowers.” Dean scrunched his face and shook his head.

Sam rolled his eyes, but sat back in the chair with a quieted huff. “I would love some flowers. _Especially_ from my soulmate.”

Dean just clenched his jaw and hoped his face wasn't turning red.

* * *

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Castiel was getting a last check-up from the nurse, Meg, who was fixing him with a new bandage and gauze around his head - she said it was the last time he'd need to put something over it unless he noticed it oozing or bleeding again. Anna had arrived a few minutes ago to sit with him for the remainder of his stay. Meg gave a thumbs up and said she would be back with some release papers for him to sign.

He looked up as the nurse laughed a “pardon me” and added a teased “oh... cute” at the door indicating that someone was in the way. He thought he had told Anna to let her mom know that she didn't need to come by. But it wasn't Naomi that walked in.

It was Dean.

“Dean,” Castiel said out loud. Anna gave him a wide-eyed look, and Castiel held up his hand slightly for her to keep quiet, indicating that it was alright. He noticed the sling over Dean's right arm immediately and shifted on the bed. “You're hurt.”

“Yeah, just a bruised shoulder. I'll live,” Dean explained, practically brushing it off as not-a-big-deal, so Castiel didn't inquire further.

Castiel saw the big round metallic balloon that said 'Get Well Soon' on it floating above Dean, and he followed the string down to where it was tied to a small blue teddy bear with a bandage patch on its forehead in Dean's hand.

“I, uh, didn't know if you liked flowers,” Dean said sheepishly, holding it out a little and then deciding to stick it on the rolling tray table away from the remainder of a meal that Castiel had pushed out of the way earlier.

Castiel motioned to a vase of roses that Anna had brought with her from Naomi that was sitting on the shelf to his left. “I love flowers.” He scratched at an itch on his arm.

“I'll remember that next time,” Dean said, hand rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. “Didn't know that you liked flowers, so I hope balloons are okay.”

“Of course,” Castiel narrowed his eyes, swallowing against a lump in his throat. He hadn't expected for Dean to come visit him, let alone know that he had been involved in an accident. “Dean, what are you doing here?”

Dean froze, and his eyes went wide in shock. “You don't remember? Shit. Amnesia?”

Castiel shook his head, wincing a little at the movement. “No, the doctors said it was a minor concussion. No brain damage... No amnesia that I am aware of. Is there something that I'm forgetting?”

“Do you... know why you're in the hospital?” Dean asked slowly, dipping his head.

“Yeah,” Castiel said and explained, “While trying to keep someone from getting smashed by a car, I hit my head. Very graceful on my part.”

Dean was quiet for awhile, his eyes briefly flicking to Anna and then back to Castiel. “You... _Someone_? You don't remember who it was?”

“I remember tackling a man, but never got a look at his face. It happened rather quickly.”

“It was me.”

It took far too long for that to register in Castiel's head, and he squinted hard at the man standing back at the end of his bed. It had been Dean standing at that corner? The man had been wearing... a thin jacket and a beanie, neither of which Dean was wearing right now – Castiel reasoned that he might have taken them off in the building – but the size of him looked to be the same as he had remembered. He chuckled quietly. “I had no idea... It was really you?”

“You saved me, Cas,” Dean said, a little flustered, still standing a ways from the foot of the bed.

“Hey, Dean,” came from the doorway, and Sam's head popped in. “Hi, Cas,” he said with a flick of his chin in Castiel's direction. “It's been forty-five minutes,” he said back to Dean, and a white and blue bag came flying through the air.

Dean tried to catch it with his left hand, but failed as it smacked into the ground behind him. He looked at Sam affronted and scoffed, “Dude, right-handed. And give some more warning to the guy with the busted shoulder.” He bent down to pick up the bag and held it over his shoulder.

Castiel waved to Sam, feeling a tickle on his neck that he rubbed with his fingers after. “You can come in, if you would like. Anna and I don't bite.”

“Not unless you want me to,” Anna said with a sweet smile.

Sam held up his hand to show off his zeroed-out TiMER peeking out from his sleeve and smiled back. “I've already got my fiance for that.”

“Ah.” Anna ducked her head and twisted her wrist around in her palm. “That must be nice. I've still got seven-and-a-half years left to go.”

“It'll be worth the wait,” Sam assured her, his eyes twinkling.

Anna looked between Dean and Castiel, murmuring, “I sure hope so.”

Dean was pointedly _not_ looking over at his own soulmate, instead focusing his gaze on the 'Get Well Soon' balloon.

Sam filled the quiet of the room by holding his arm out and shaking Anna's hand. “I'm Sam, that dork's little brother.”

She giggled a little. “Looks like that should be the other way around.” He seemed to tower over her. “I'm Anna. That strange guy on the bed is my brother.” She motioned with her finger, and Sam bent down and listened to her as she whispered close to his ear.

Sam nodded and looked over to his brother. “We're going to go check out the vending machines down the hall. I saw they had some coffee. Need anything?”

Dean shook his head.

“Cassie?” Anna asked.

“No, thank you. I'm fine with the water for now,” Castiel addressed her. He grabbed for the cup of water on the tray that was still within reach and lifted it to his lips.

When the two of them left, the strained awkwardness between Castiel and Dean was palpable. Castiel didn't know how to get rid of it. “Did that... happen today?” he asked, indicating the sling holding Dean's arm against his side.

Dean nodded, looking around the room before dragging over a chair with his good arm and sitting down in it. “Sure beats being pancaked by a car.” He was quiet, eyes roaming over the bed, Castiel's face, and to the machines next to him. Then he said, “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Castiel answered, noticing an itch at his jaw and giving it a scratch. “The morphine is only dulling the pain since I set it lower. I didn't like the way it made me feel.”

“Were you floating on a cloud? It's some good shit,” Dean said with a knowing smile.

“I was when I first woke up,” Castiel said, “I didn't feel enough like myself though. Sentences were hard, and I was having some trouble concentrating, but it wasn't until the doctor lowered the drip that I even realized that it was an issue. I think it's making me itchy, too.”

“So... no brain damage?” Dean asked, and then he pointed at his head. “How's the back? There wasn't a whole pool of it, but when my hand came back with blood, I kind of freaked out.”

Castiel turned his eyes up as if he could see the gauze wrapped around his head. “A mild concussion, but I'll live as well. Had to get a few stitches back there, I'm told.” He gave an ironic laugh. “I didn't plan my rescue mission very well. I just saw the situation and that someone was about to get struck by a car. I had to do something.”

“Did you even stop to think that you could have been hit by the car instead? Over someone that you thought was a complete stranger?” Dean tried not to let his voice crack in front of Castiel. He had been worried out of his skull, but he had been shoving it forcefully down for half of the day. To see and know that Castiel was alive and not some drooling vegetable was loosening his hold on his emotions.

“But I didn't get hit.”

“But what if you had?”

“I had to try, Dean,” Castiel said calmly. “I don't regret my decision. And now... I am more than glad that I did it. Could you imagine what would have happened if I had not?” He paused to take a sip of his water and to hide the sudden quaking in his voice before putting the cup back onto the tray. “I could have lost you, before you would even give me a chance... I would have taken on far worse injuries if it had meant the difference between keeping you safe and watching you...” He choked down the rest of the words, drawing his face tight, his nose crinkling in an effort to keep the sudden swell of fear at bay. It made his head lance with pain, but Dean was there, and the pain didn't matter.

Dean stood up from his chair then and put the ice pack down on the tray near the little bear. He crossed the space between them, situating himself awkwardly on the bed at Castiel's waist. “I'm here, Cas,” Dean whispered, brushing his fingertips over the strands of hair that stuck out from underneath the wrapping on Castiel's forehead.

He hadn't given this man the chance to get to know him; they'd met a few times, and he had answered some questions over texts, but that was it. Dean was scared shitless of what would happen if he let him into his life. It wasn't a bad life, but Lisa had been the first person he had ever considered to be a part of his future, the first person to accept his self-conscious baggage. Castiel was a selfless son of a bitch that only wanted the opportunity to try, and Dean was constantly pushing him away.

Dean shifted on the bed again, leaning forward, and carefully wrapped his left arm over Castiel's shoulder to his back in a one-armed hug. “I'm here,” he repeated quietly.

Castiel lifted his right arm around Dean's middle and rested his hand against his shoulder blade, curling his fingers into his shirt. He buried his nose into Dean's neck, feeling the warmth and _life_ under his skin.

Anna and Sam had taken one step into the room with half-drunken coffee cups and snacks when they saw Dean and Castiel curled around each other at the head of the bed, and they tiptoed back out.

* * *

Dean and Castiel were lounging on the couch at Castiel's house after Dean had insisted on staying with him for a little bit longer. Anna and Sam had agreed to make them dinner – after Sam had confirmed with Jesse first, of course. When Castiel had asked if anyone wanted anything to drink and had started to list what he had, Dean had habitually asked for a beer. Sam had shot that down quickly because of the pain meds, and Dean had whined. Anna had shooed them into the living room and set them both up on the couch with glasses of orange juice.

Dean laughed bitterly, sinking into the end of the plush leather couch by the window. “You know, I would try to add myself to that babysitting rotation that Anna mentioned if I wasn't broken, too.”

Castiel smiled. “I wish I could help you as well, Dean. Anna and Naomi would have my hide though if I don't take it easy. Hopefully, I can return to work in a few days. We'll be starting to get in requests for taxes soon, and I don't want to get behind.”

“Wow, your job sounds thrilling,” Dean halfheartedly mocked. “What do you even do the rest of the year when people aren't scrambling to do taxes?”

“Essentially, I help businesses and some individuals prepare their financial records,” Castiel explained, taking a drink of his juice and setting it down in a cupholder in the couch next to him. “I usually perform overviews of the financial operations of a business in order to help it run efficiently. No, it's nothing too thrilling, but someone needs to do it. Not too different from someone coming to you for an oil change that they can do themselves, but fear of ruining something from lack of expertise or lack of time brings them to a professional.”

“Do you file your own taxes?” Dean asked.

“Of course,” Castiel answered, “Do you repair your own vehicle?”

Dean snorted, “Ain't no one touching my Baby but me.” He paused and added, “And my dad sometimes, but she was his to begin with. Bobby helps if I bring her to the shop, too.”

“Does Sam work on her at all?”

Dean shook his head, glancing into the kitchen past Castiel and his gigantic couch. “He's not a mechanic. We've taught him some basics, like oil changes and tire rotations, but he sticks to greeting customers and doing the paperwork. Sam can work on her if I babysit, I guess. Or he can hand me things. He'll be going back to school, so his job at the shop is just something temporary.”

“He's getting married in a few months, right?” Castiel mentioned.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, smiling. “Jessica Moore. That woman is an angel, and I swear she's way out of my brother's league sometimes. They were matched at school a few years ago though, so someone thinks she's perfect for him.”

Castiel glanced down at his TiMER and then at Dean's arm held up in the sling. Was Dean so willing to believe in the matches of others, but not for himself? “Is she here in Lawrence with Sam?”

Dean nodded again. “She came with him when-” His eyes dropped down and his jaw set hard before he looked back up and continued, “when Dad got sick. They both took some time off to help take care of him. And now they want to get married here in Sammy's hometown before they go back to school in the fall.”

“John is ill?” Castiel blinked tiredly.

“He's doing good now. I don't remember the medical term, but the docs said Dad had a mini-stroke,” Dean explained. “He's taking the prescribed medication just fine, but we've all had to get on him about his diet and exercising.”

Dean was talking still, but Castiel felt himself drifting off. He wanted to hear what Dean had to say, was trying very hard to pay attention, but his eyes felt heavy, and...

“Hey, Cas, you alright?”

Castiel blinked awake, looking over to a concerned Dean on his right, a whole giant cushion seat away. He took in a sharp breath and widened his eyes, trying to will himself some energy, but that wasn't working.

Dean told him, “You should get some rest. Maybe get a catnap in before dinner's ready.”

“Yeah,” Castiel agreed, yawning and covering his mouth with the back of his hand. He stuck his hand between the couch cushions and pulled on the lever that raised up the front of the sectional that he was on. With some mild effort, he used his weight to drop the back of the seat down.

“Your couch flips out?” Dean asked excitedly, noticing that the long and curved couch was five or six pieces, but not that they might have been separate entities that functioned as recliners. He started shoving his left hand between the cushions until he found a hard bar – plastic or wood? – and pulled on it. He gave a victorious “Yes!” when his legs were thrown up with the couch.

Castiel let a small smile play on his lips as he settled into his portion of the couch.

Dean was about to yell about how awesome this couch was to Sam but thought better of it when he saw Castiel spread out in middle of the couch just before the corner wedge. Instead, he followed Castiel's example and pushed his back and hips into the couch until the back moved, and Dean got a chance to revel a moment in the soft leather. He could easily take a nap here... but he wasn't really tired. He moved to grab his juice that he had earlier set down on the end table to his right.

Next to the glass laid a small paper pad that drew his attention because his name was written on it. He picked it up, risking a quick glance at Castiel who seemed surprisingly restful. His hair was tousled to hell, sticking out at every angle with the white gauze wrapped around his head, and his lips were slightly parted, his chest rising and falling with his breaths. Dean grabbed the paper and read the top: “ _Questions for Dean_ ”.

He huffed a quiet laugh, looking over the apparent list of questions just for him. He briefly wondered if there could possibly be another Dean that Castiel could have questions for, but the first thing listed was: “ _Ask about his parents and family_ ” which was followed by “ _Brother Sam, Father John, Mother ? Bobby Uncle?_ ”

Dean continued through the list, seeing next, “ _Does he enjoy his work?_ ” which had “ _Mechanic_ ” scribbled afterward. Then “ _Interest in cars?_ ” with a written answer “ _Yes. Look up '67 Chevy Impala_ ”. Dean remembered that text conversation. He had typed quite a lot about his Baby. The answer drew a soft smile to his face – the guy really did want to know about him, enough to learn about his car. _Brownie point for Castiel._ When had he started giving Castiel points?

Castiel had written quite the list; it continued onto the next page; although, it was just a small pad. He had asked about Dean's hobbies and what he liked to do, adding a note about fixing up cars. His addictions, what he was like as a kid, where he grew up, and if he'd always lived in Lawrence. There was a large sub-group of his favorites that Castiel had filled in the blanks based on the texts that they had been exchanging just a few months ago.

Dean twisted back around, finding the pen on the end table. He initially tried to hold the pen in his left hand, but based on the shaky 'y' that he had started to write on the page, he knew that wasn't going to happen. The nurse had said he could still use his right arm, so he kept the sling on, drawing his legs up further on the couch – hoping that Castiel didn't have any hang-ups about shoes on his furniture – to rest the pad awkwardly in his lap.

And Dean started to write.

He wrote that he did enjoy his job. He'd bore Castiel about work some day later, so he didn't elaborate. He left his hobbies blank, saving that conversation for a future date. _Shit._ He was considering dates with him again. But he did write in Castiel's notepad that he'd grown up Lawrence and it was the only home he'd ever known. He filled in a few favorites that Castiel hadn't asked yet.

Dean read on, pausing in his own writing to see some of the annotations that Castiel had put in. “Ouch,” he whispered when he read the question about his greatest fear and on the same line Castiel had put “ _His sexuality?_ ” Then Dean stifled a snorted laugh at an answer of “ _Kissing_ ” after a question of his talents or skills. It drew his gaze back to Castiel, his eyes dropping to the other man's lips.

In his sleep, Castiel's head had fallen towards his right shoulder. Almost unconsciously, Dean's tongue darted out between his lips, grazing his teeth as he drew it back in. Kissing Cas was something that he did remember. With enough alcohol to remove his inhibitions, he would probably do it again. It swelled Dean's ego to know that Castiel had liked his kissing enough to consider it a talent. Would he ever be able to do it again without being drunk?

Dean followed down the lines, glancing over questions about awards, religion, scars, and tattoos – which had a note about the tattoo on his chest and no known piercings. There were questions about the happiest and saddest moments in his life and pets as well.

He paused at “ _Ideal date?_ ” as he flipped the page and wondered if he had an answer for that. Excluding sitting through a chick flick, Dean was happy being in good company. Maybe something that involved food – a good burger and pie. So many “dates” had been hook-ups at bars, simple one-night-stands that he never called again. He had immensely enjoyed the full day with Lisa – the comfort and familiarity of home, the intimacy of being together with no interruptions, the tons of sex... not even their last day together hanging before them had ruined the mood then.

Sam and Anna were still in the other room, quietly chatting when Dean peeked into the kitchen again. He didn't know how much time had already passed, but this had to be taking up a lot of it. He found a few questions heavily scribbled out, but the scratches of pen over the words weren't enough to hide what was written beneath. In Castiel's list of questions, he had actually put in: “ _What's the craziest sexual thing you've done? A man...?_ ” and “ _Favorite position?_ ”. Apparently, he had thought better of asking Dean that when when he had tried to mark over them.

Dean mulled over those questions for a long time, knowing that they were questions that people sometimes asked each other, but knowing that Castiel had been the one to ask, to be curious, it spread a warmth over his face and a set a flutter through his chest. Castiel had put in what looked like an answer for one of them, and yeah, he'd admit that having sex with a man was probably one of the craziest sexual things he'd ever done. There had been a thing with twins and that one time he wore panties though... no, he couldn't share those with Castiel. Maybe never, maybe later – he'd cross that bridge if it ever came up again.

But his favorite position? As he wrote in an answer after the dark lines, he stared at the word “Cowgirl” in front of him. What would be the name of that if it involved two men? Cowboy? Dean shook his head, flipping the page back to the first set of questions and twisting back to set the notepad and pen on the end table. He pushed his weight on his seat, trying to get it to fold in and down again – which was made difficult without the use of one arm – to distract him from the mental image of Castiel straddling him, chest out and head thrown back.

There had been a few more unmarked questions listed afterward, but he left them alone, lifting himself off of the couch, grabbing his glass of orange juice, and walking around the coffee table to join the others in the kitchen. Castiel was still resting, and he didn't want to disturb him until dinner was ready.

“Oh, hey,” Sam greeted him while opening the fridge. He took out a container of Parmesan cheese from inside the door and a bag that Dean confirmed was an ice pack when it was set on the counter next to him. “I was just about to get you. Dinner's almost ready, and it's almost been an hour since you've iced your shoulder.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Dean rolled his eyes but grabbed the squishy bag. As he held up the ice pack to the side of his shoulder, he complained, “Do they have some sort of wrap for this so I don't have to keep holding it up?”

“We'll see if we have something at home,” Sam answered, knowing his fiance usually kept them well-stocked in first aid kits hidden around the house.

Dean nodded in thanks, looking around the kitchen. It was a very nice kitchen, at least by his standards. He couldn't remember much of it from that night... almost a year ago now, but now he took the time to admire the house that Castiel lived in. Clean, modern, charming. God, that couch was Heaven. “So, uh... is Cas rich?” Not that the place was a mansion, but it certainly wasn't the rinky-dink apartment that Dean lived in.

Anna shook her head, bending down to retrieve a stainless steel colander from a bottom cabinet next to the stove. “He's just smart with his money. Knows how to invest it.”

“Ah, right,” Dean said. He shifted his weight back to lean on the marbled counter, still holding the cold bag to his shoulder. “Accountant. Makes sense.”

The room was quiet for some time while Anna drained the pot of cooked noodles into the colander she had placed in the sink and Sam turned off the burner under the pot of tomato sauce. With a sudden sharp bite to her gaze, Anna turned to Dean and asked, “What are your intentions with my brother?”

“What?” Dean blinked, and when his mouth opened with no sound, he tried to answer, “I... have no intentions with your brother?” Was Anna suddenly worried that Dean was after money? What had brought on that question from Castiel's sister?

Anna sighed and shook her head. “Then you should leave,” she said, pointing towards the front door. “Until you can make up your mind and want to be with Castiel, you shouldn't be here.”

“The man saved my life. I owe him... a lot,” Dean tried to reason. It was part truth; he couldn't quite place why he didn't want to leave.

Anna rolled her eyes, a hand on her hip. “You certainly don't owe him your false hope. That's all you're giving him by sticking around. Mother and I can take care of him.”

Dean glanced at Sam who only put his hands up so that he could stay out of it. Dean sucked in a slow breath through his nose and said, “Thanks for the 'if you hurt my sibling-slash-friend, I'll hurt you' shpeal, sweetheart. Been awhile since I've gotten one of those. But I don't _want_ to hurt Cas. I don't know what my intentions are or what I'm going to do, but I thought I'd give being his friend a chance at least. I'm still not fully on board with my TiMER, but Cas... he seems like a good guy, and I wouldn't mind having that kind of friend in my life.”

Anna gave him a pointed nod and asserted, “Castiel is a great guy, and you'd be lucky to have him, but I've never hear of a TiMER matching soulmates as 'just friends'.”

Dean was about to retort that there was a first for everything, but Castiel interrupted, standing in the open space that connected with the living room. “I can make my own decisions, Anna, but thank you for your concern.”

She abandoned her post in front of the sink to join her brother. “Did we wake you, Castiel?” she asked as her eyes raised to his bandaged forehead. “We're just waiting on the bread, and dinner will be ready.”

“Okay.” Castiel nodded and moved to get plates from a cabinet, but Anna blocked his path.

“Sam and I can take care of that,” she scolded him, pointing at opening on the other side of the kitchen, “You and Dean should go sit down at the table. We'll be right out.”

The two of them were herded into the dining room and sat down at the rather large wooden table with chairs enough for eight people. Dean whistled and asked Castiel, “You have a lot of company over often? Seems a bit of overkill for a single guy.”

“It's...” Castiel's eye dropped down to the table, and a small frown formed in his lips. “Yes, it's completely over-compensation. I like to be prepared for the rare occurrences of larger gatherings.”

Dean thought that sitting at such a long table might feel lonely if there was no company to share it. His own table was a simple square thing shoved up against a wall that could fit three people unless he dragged it back and squeezed in a chair between it and the wall. Sharing a meal with someone was usually done at Sam and Jesse's apartment, Bobby's, or at the family's well-loved Roadhouse bar.

Speaking of the Roadhouse... “Speaking of larger gatherings,” Dean began, looking up from the smooth and dark surface of the table, “there's going to be one at the end of the month at the Roadhouse bar... for my birthday. It's not really a party, but some family and friends are going. Real casual.” He paused, knowing what he wanted to say but trying to figure out how to say it. “There's, uh... already some interest in meeting the man that, well, made it possible for me to see my 28th birthday, so... if you want to go, you'd be welcome to. There's probably a lot of free beer in it for you.”

“So, I'd be going as the man that saved your life.” Castiel's eyes narrowed, and he leaned back in his chair.

Dean considered the weight of those words, if they had been asked curiously, as clarification, or as an accusation. Had it even been a question? “Yeah, those that know about today have been asking about you. I know more will want to as the info gets out.” He added, “But some of them do know that you're my, you know, match according to our TiMERs.”

Castiel sighed. He wondered if Dean would have even invited him if he hadn't thrown him out of the way of that car. “Text me the details, and I'll consider making an appearance.” The shy smile that flitted on Dean's face suddenly made Castiel not care what the case was. If it would allow him to get closer to his match, the One for him, what did it matter?

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Googled about accountants...


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

Castiel stood outside of the bar that Dean had texted him about last week, Harvelle's Roadhouse. It was on the outskirts of town, clearly a family business. There were a number of vehicles and motorcycles outside, none of which were a black Impala though. He pulled his coat sleeve back from his left wrist to look at his watch, noting that he was only running fifteen minutes late, so Dean should have at least been there by now. Castiel reasoned to himself that it was likely he had carpooled with a designated driver so that he could participate in celebratory drinks.

The man looked up at the red and white sign, puffs of breath falling from his nostrils and between his lips in the chill night air. He had met a number of Dean's family and friends that might be there tonight, but still he hesitated. The nagging feeling that he would be introduced only as the man that had saved Dean was a sharp ache in his chest. Castiel was more than that, and for last six months, he'd been waiting for Dean to figure that out.

Dean had opened up to him considerably over the last few weeks though. Although they hadn't gotten the chance to see each other since Castiel had still been cooped up in the house on brain rest, they had begun exchanging texts again. Nothing every day, but they talked about how their day went when they did text – relatively boring for both of them. Dean had promised that they could try the getting-to-know-each-other questions face-to-face one day.

Castiel had tried to strike up a conversation in their texts about the Dr. Sexy, MD show that Charlie had said that Dean liked, but he found watching it made his head hurt – quite literally. It was aggravating that his concussion was still giving him some trouble. He had slept for hours at a time during the first two days which he thought was fine because the doctor had wanted him to rest his brain, but Naomi and Anna had freaked out a little since a change in his sleeping habits was one of the symptoms to look out for. He hadn't gotten to watch television, use his phone, read a book, or talk about work under his family's insistence. Castiel had practically been under house-arrest, and sleep was the only thing he could do to escape the boredom; although, he really _was_ tired.

When Gabriel had come to “babysit” him on the third day, he gave Castiel back his phone who had immediately texted Dean to see how he was faring. Dean had texted back that he was glad to hear from him, that he was going to return to work behind the counter the next day, and that he had a check-up in a few days to see if he still needed to wear the sling or not.

It had taken a few more days before Castiel could concentrate on looking through the newspaper and listen to light music. Almost a full week after he had hit his head, and so much was still giving him a headache. The acetaminophen had helped immensely when needed. He had started sitting outside on his back porch wrapped in a thick blanket to listen to the sounds of his quieted neighborhood and the subtle sounds of nature.

Days before Dean's 28th birthday gathering, Castiel had finally felt mostly functional and more himself, but he still took a precaution to avoid driving, just in case. He hadn't wanted to bother Anna or Naomi to take him since they probably would have said that going to a bar would be a bad idea. He should have called for a cab, but, of course, Gabriel had happened to be “in the neighborhood” and stopped by to “check on him”, and Castiel had ended up reluctantly asking him for a ride.

“Hey, Cassie,” Gabriel said as he came up behind Castiel and patted him on the back. “You know I didn't give you a ride so that you could stand out here in the cold.”

“I thought you'd already left,” Castiel tried to hint to Gabriel.

Gabriel shook his head. “I wanted to make sure you got inside before I took off. So I parked instead. Need me to stick around? Give you a ride home?”

Castiel sighed, tucking his hands into his coat pockets. “Maybe. I'm just not sure how to act around so many of Dean's family and friends. I've met a few of them, but only ever spent any time with his brother.”

“I thought you said you met his dad,” Gabriel reminded him.

“I did, but it was strictly business. He really has no idea who I am.”

Gabriel cleared his throat, grabbing Castiel around the shoulders. “Now he'll at least know you as the Man That Saved His Boy. That'll put you in 'he likes you' column for sure.”

Castiel took in a deep breath, nodding. The cold was finally starting to get to him, and he should make a decision to go inside, leave, or have Gabriel join him anyway.

“So...” Gabriel started, huffing a thick cloud of breath with his laugh, “think Dean will be sufficiently drunk enough to follow you home tonight?”

Castiel groaned at his friend, pushing away from him. “Even if I knew for a fact that I could physically handle that right now, I wouldn't do that to Dean.” Yeah, there was no way he was letting Gabriel stay. “That's not why I'm here.”

Gabriel backed away from him and put up his hands. “It's been six months since your TiMERs went off. One of you needs to make a move. I swear I'm getting second-hand blue balls just thinking about the snail's pace you two are taking.”

It was Castiel's turn to laugh as he twisted around to look at his friend. “It's not always about sex, Gabriel. I think in our case, Dean would respond better if we made a connection. The rest is up to him. So, your, uh, balls are in his hands.”

“Gross.” Gabriel made a face. “And you saved his life. What sort of connection is he looking for?”

Over Gabriel's shoulder, Castiel caught a dark-haired woman with a thick coat glancing in their direction. He canted his head to the side, wondering if she was looking at them, but there wasn't really anything else around...

She stepped forward the moment Castiel caught her and greeted him with a quick apology, “Ah, sorry. You... look familiar, and I was trying to place where I've seen your face. Did you, maybe, take any yoga classes at the Oasis gym?”

Castiel shook his head while Gabriel spun around to check out their newcomer. “I don't hold any gym memberships. I jog, mostly.” As she stepped closer and further into the light, he set her with a narrowed gaze. “Sorry, I don't recognize you. If you know any Castiels though, it's probably me. It's not a very common name.”

“You're Castiel,” she stated, and Castiel thought he might have heard a slight question in her tone.

Gabriel bowed slightly. “And I'm Gabriel. Just a chauffeur tonight.”

The woman smiled, looking past Gabriel as if he hadn't just spoken. “You wouldn't by chance happen to know a Dean?” Her TiMER glinted slightly from the edge of her coat sleeve as she flicked her wrist.

The motion seemed strange to Castiel, but he simply answered, “I know a Dean Winchester. I'm here for his birthday celebration since he insists that it's not a party.”

The smile never left the lady's face. “You're Dean's soulmate.”

Castiel stared at her, stunned that someone knew... “I'm not at liberty to discuss that.” _Who is this woman that Dean would tell her?_

“Well, I am, so it's nice to finally meet you,” she said. “I'm Lisa by the way. Should we get inside and say hello to our mutual friend? Bit cold to be standing around outside, isn't it?” she asked, dark eyes catching the light of the Roadhouse sign. Lisa bunched her shoulders up around her neck and stuffed her hands deep into her pockets.

Castiel nodded and said, “Yes, it is. My _friend_ was just leaving.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Think I might stay for the moral support.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “You were just looking for an excuse to get away from Kali, weren't you? I thought you two had made up? What did you do this time?”

Although Gabriel and Kali had been matched as soulmates, they still had an on-again-off-again relationship that had both epic fights and epic make ups. They revealed the worst in each other at times, but always came back to overcome it. Space was sometimes all that they needed, and it worked for them. A new development though recently brought up a rift that Castiel knew they could figure out if they'd sit down long enough to stop freaking out about it.

“What? She's kind of scary right now,” Gabriel admitted, frowning, “I'm afraid she's going to light me on fire at any moment. I'm not looking forward to what the rest of the year brings. Do you need a new roommate?”

“No,” Castiel said. “You're going to have a baby with your soulmate and enjoy the process. I'm not going to let you drag me into this and get flayed alive as well.” Gabriel was absolutely right that Kali would light his ass on fire, but it's a price that he'd have to pay for loving her – and knocking her up.

“But, Cassie,” Gabriel whined.

Castiel set his jaw. “No,” was all he said.

Gabriel stood up straight and moved to stand next to Lisa. “This is a public establishment, and I feel like having a beer.”

“That's fine,” Castiel acknowledged, “but I'm not getting in the middle of you and Kali. Call her and make sure it's alright. Go home if it's not.”

Lisa just shrugged at Castiel and headed to the door. Gabriel nodded and fished his phone out of his jacket. Castiel took one last look up at the sign, taking in a deep breath, and followed Lisa to the door.

* * *

 

“Dean. _Dean._ ”

“Hmm?”

Dean turned to his brother who was jabbing him in the shoulder. Sam twisted him rather roughly around and pointed at the door.

_Son of a bitch..._

Standing near the entrance of Harvelle's Roadhouse was not only the man that he was matched with but also the woman he had hoped he would be matched with instead. He knew they would eventually meet – it was almost inevitable – but fuck, here, there were too many people. Someone was going to blab something wrong, and someone else would misinterpret. Not only was he going to have to keep the soulmate thing from his dad and Bobby, but there was the giant fact of Lisa maybe carrying his child that _no one_ knew about.

“When did you invite Lisa?” Sam finally asked while Dean had a panicking moment.

Jesse and Charlie sitting at the table with them perked up at that, and both of their heads twisted around so fast that Dean was surprised that he didn't hear them snap. Charlie slugged Dean in the shoulder harder than usual. “A love triangle! Tonight is going to be fantastic!”

Dean held up his hands in warning. “No, no. Shit. I forgot that I invited her. Guys don't-” He didn't get to finish as the girls fled from the table, practically squealing. He turned to his brother with a huff and a roll of his eyes.

Sam frowned. “How long – You guys were broken up. You – Dean, you never told me that you got back in touch with her. What gives?”

Dean shook his head. “So I started seeing Lisa again. What's the big deal?”

Sam threw his arm in the direction of the door at his fiance and friend huddling around the apparently new entertainment of the evening. “Come on, man. Cas is the big deal. Are you...” His voice came out a harsh whisper. “ _A_ _re you_ _having sex with her?_ ”

Dean scrunched his face up at Sam. “Excuse me? Why the hell would that matter? I'm not _dating_ Cas. I'm not _dating_ anyone right now. I'm a grown-ass man, and I can do whatever I want.”

“Of course you can, Dean, but shit, I'm just saying you should have some consideration for the guy. He's been nothing but a saint to you, and you thought throwing your ex-girlfriend into the pot would be a good idea?”

“I'm not throwing – no, I'm not having this conversation,” Dean argued. “It's my birthday, and tonight is going to be awesome.”

Sam shrugged. “Whatever, man. And your birthday was on Wednesday, so don't think you're getting out of this talk altogether. Go say 'hi'. I'll interrogate you later.”

Dean looked over to the door again, catching Castiel's eye. The other man may have been caught by Jesse and Charlie, but he still managed to acknowledge Dean with a small wave. Dean's lips quirked into a smile – time to go ensure his biggest life secrets wouldn't be spilled this evening.

* * *

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

Castiel didn't have much chance to look for Dean in the bar when two women nearly ran him and Lisa over. He recognized one of them, the redhead named Charlie that he'd seen a few times at the auto shop.

She smiled at him with her mouth wide open. “Cas! Oh man, the number of free beers you're going to get tonight...”

The blonde that Castiel didn't know gave a sudden gasp from next to them, exclaiming, “And who is this?!” He thought that she might have been referring to him, but her eyes were set on Lisa's midsection after she had pulled back from a hug.

“Oh, I-” Lisa looked down, patting what Castiel had thought was just a thick coat. “I'm not sure yet. I haven't come up with a name.”

 _Pregnant?_ Castiel thought.

Charlie's eyes widened, and when she shrieked, “You're producing spawn, Lisa?” it confirmed that the brunette was pregnant. Castiel suddenly felt a bit guilty that he hadn't noticed; he would have insisted on going inside sooner.

“Good to see you, too, Charlie,” Lisa said with a laugh.

“I hope congratulations are in order? Because I'd like another hug before I meet the fine man that you came in with.” The blonde gave Castiel a wink before she wrapped her arms around Lisa again.

Charlie swooped in the moment Lisa's arms were free and tried to bodily embrace her. “Whoa, that really is all baby, isn't it?”

Castiel briefly wondered what fate had befallen Gabriel when the sharp-eyed blonde held out her hand to him. “I'm Jessica,” she introduced herself, “I hope that anything you've heard of me hasn't been too terrible.”

 _Ah, Sam's fiance._ He took her offered hand, telling her, “Your fiance and his brother had nothing but high praises for you.”

It actually made her blush – he could see the faint color rising in her cheeks. “The Winchesters are quite the charmers when they want to be,” she said with a smile. “I'm sure you'll find out soon enough.”

Castiel glanced up and past her, looking across the bar until his eyes caught sight of Dean sitting with his brother at a wooden table across the way. He lifted his hand in a small wave which granted him a smile and a nod of the head from Dean. Perhaps being known as the man that had saved his life wouldn't be so difficult to bear when Castiel realized that everyone here so far – Dean himself, his brother, his brother's fiance, and the redhead friend – knew about him first as Dean's soulmate.

“I am a free man for the night!” There was a sudden shout behind him, and Castiel turned to see his friend coming in through the door, arms raised in victory. Gabriel looped an arm over his shoulders and pulled him close. “Just say the word, and your getaway car awaits. Although...” he paused with a sly grin pulling at his lips. “I would like to drink. Crap. Not used to being the DD.”

Castiel made quick introductions, the girls rather eager to meet a friend of his. Gabriel was witty, and they seemed to accept him immediately. While Charlie and Jessica disappeared to get drinks at the bar, Castiel, Gabriel, and Lisa made their way to the table that the Winchesters had claimed for the evening.

“Glad you could make it,” Dean greeted Castiel, stepping forward and wrapping him in a quick hug. It was over before Castiel could do much but awkwardly pat Dean's side, assuming that he would have gone for a handshake instead. “How're you feeling?”

“Better,” Castiel answered honestly. “I've been cleared by my doctor to go back to work on Monday.”

“That's great, man!” Dean beamed, arms wide. He had communicated to Castiel in texts last week that the sling was already off and that he'd been back to regular work in the garage after stuck with greeting customers and doing paperwork for a few days. “Celebratory drinks for getting back to work intact?”

Castiel shook his head. “Thank you, but I'll pass on the drinks.” He didn't bother to elaborate.

“Alright. Just let me know. I owe you one.” Dean then turned for a hug with Lisa nearby. “Sorry to leave you hanging, Lis. You two know each other?” His eyes darted between her and Castiel.

They both shook their heads. Lisa answered first, “Just a chance encounter outside the bar.”

Castiel was distracted by a bearish hug from the brother, but his was long enough for Castiel to return it with his cheek squashed into Sam's neck. “Good to see you,” Sam said.

Castiel nodded back. “And you as well, Sam. You and Jessica are in good health?”

Sam raised a brow at that, but huffed a laugh. “Uh, yeah. We're doing just fine.” He flicked his chin at the man behind Castiel and held out his hand. “Don't think I know you. I'm Sam, the birthday boy's brother.”

Gabriel took his hand, looking comparably short in front to the younger man. He wasn't that much shorter than Castiel, but Sam had that effect of towering over most people he met. “Gabriel. Friend and chauffeur to the Great Castiel.” Gabriel took Dean's offered hand when it appeared afterward.

“Haven't officially met,” Dean said. “Seen you at the Wishing Well a few times though.”

Gabriel nodded. “Cassie, apparently, didn't want to share with the class.”

Castiel just rolled his eyes.

“That's, uh... probably my fault,” Dean admitted. “But, hey, better late than never. Met his sister, Anna, a few weeks ago.” He turned his head and asked Castiel, “You've met everyone here now, right?”

Castiel nodded and then asked, “Will there be more in attendance?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, ushering Lisa to take the seat to his right. “Benny's on his way. You haven't met him either, but he goes to the Wishing Well with me, too. You've probably seen him.”

“With the mariner's cap?” Castiel pointed to his head.

“Is that what that's called? I kept calling it a sailor's hat.” Dean chuckled and nodded. “That's Benny. Bobby, Dad, and Jody are running late, but they'll be here after Jody gets off of work.”

Gabriel snatched the other seat next to Lisa. “Is there going to be a quiz later?” he asked as he settled down into it and took off his coat.

Castiel followed suit and draped his coat over the back of the next available chair with Gabriel which placed him sort of catty-corner to Dean. He pointed at Lisa and then at Sam. “Lisa, a friend, who I entirely missed was pregnant. My apologies, ma'am. And your brother, Sam.” The other girls were headed back their direction as Castiel pointed to them as well.  "Jessica, Sam's fiance. And the auto shop friend named Charlie.”

“You mean the awesome nerd friend, Charlie,” Charlie corrected as she set down a pitcher of beer and another full of water and ice.

Jessica followed behind her with six mugs carefully gripped by the handles and then an older woman with a pitcher of dark soda and another of foamy beer. The woman seemed to have a similar fashion taste as Dean with her open button-up top, fitted shirt underneath, jeans, and timberland boots. She could easily have been his mother. “Just gettin' you started, Birthday Boy,” she said as she set the pitchers down and ducked her arm around Dean's neck to playfully ruffle his hair. “Have the others stop by the bar when they get here if you need more.”

“Can do, Ellen,” Dean said, leaning towards her. “Oh, hey. Got a newcomer for you.” His eyes drifted to Castiel.

Ellen looked up and smiled at him – a warm and motherly smile that made his heart start to ache. “Hey, there, newcomer,” she greeted with a hand out as she moved around Lisa and Gabriel. Once Castiel took her hand, she continued, “Name's Ellen. Got a problem, you let me know since I'm responsible for the joint.”

“I'm Castiel,” he told her. “You have a fine establishment, Ellen.”

“Come around a few more times before you tell me that again,” Ellen teased. “I gotta get back to work, but you all let me or Jo know if you need something.” She gave Lisa a quick pat on the shoulder and a wave before she grabbed the empty bottles from the table and went back to the bar.

Everyone settled down into chairs around the rectangular table that seemed to comfortably fit about ten people with wiggle room to squeeze in a few more. While Charlie took the seat next to Castiel, the other half of the table was left empty.

Dean poured himself some beer from one of the pitchers and motioned to the pitcher of water when he turned back to Lisa. “You okay with water or some soda? I should have asked for tea or something, right?”

Lisa pushed her empty mug towards him with a smile. “Water will be fine.”

Dean nodded and grabbed the pitcher of water to fill her glass. “Is it offensive if I say it looks like you've gotten bigger? It hasn't been that long since I last saw you, has it?”

Lisa shrugged. “It's been over a month, Dean.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“So...” Gabriel chimed in, although to apparently change the subject. “How did everyone here meet the Birthday Boy? Besides the obvious.” He looked directly at Sam as he took a sip of his alcohol. One drink, he had promised Castiel.

Charlie was quick to jump on the introductions. “Larping,” she said as she put a hand to her chest. It granted Dean a few raised brows as Charlie moved on to point at Jessica. “Uh, in her panties. Right?” More brows went up, but Charlie moved on. “At birth, and again at birth.” She indicated Sam and Dean. Dean nodded. Pointing at Lisa, she paused. “Actually, I'm not sure how you two met. A bar? Coffee? Either way, you started dating soon after.” Dean and Lisa visibly cringed before melting into awkward smiles while not looking at Castiel. There went the beans. Charlie soldiered on though, oblivious – or maybe not-so-oblivious – to the spilled beans. She waved at the spot behind them and answered for Gabriel, “Here at this bar, and...” While tapping her wrist, she finished with, “Eyes met at the auto shop after their TiMERs chimed.”

Jesse and Sam gave mockingly impressed claps as Charlie bowed her head with a flourish.

Gabriel looked from Charlie to Jesse to Lisa and then to Castiel. “I'm not even sure where to start after that.”

Castiel leaned towards Charlie and quietly told her, “I think Gabriel was asking how everyone knew Dean.”

Charlie grinned and nodded. “I know. It was more fun this way.”

Castiel was certain he was missing a joke.

Dean cleared his throat, drawing Castiel's attention away from the redhead. “Anything you want clarification on will have to wait. Let's save the embarrassing Dean stories when we're not celebrating my birthday.”

“Spoil-sport,” Charlie hissed.

Gabriel turned his head to Lisa, but his eyes were locked with Dean's. “Still friends with your ex? Don't see that very often. I'm impressed.”

“I'm still friends with Balthazar,” Castiel admitted.

Charlie barked out a laugh and promptly covered her mouth. She collected herself enough to ask, “You have a friend named Balthazar?”

Lisa smirked and said, “That's probably more rare than 'Castiel'.”

Caught up in conversation, they all missed the entrance of one Benny Lafitte who inserted himself between Dean and Lisa. “Mind if I join you all?”

Dean's face lit up immediately, and he swung an arm around Benny's shoulders to pat him on the back. “Hey, buddy.”

Benny turned to Lisa with a, “Hey, there, little lady.”

She stood briefly to hug him, and he shot her enlarged belly a knowing look. He tipped the bill of his cap and said nothing more on the subject.

Waves were his greeting for the rest of the table until his eyes fell on Castiel. “You must be the Cas I've been hearin' so much about. Or do you prefer to go by Castiel? Dean's never said.”

“Cas is fine,” Castiel replied. “It seems to be specific to those in Dean's circle.”

Gabriel leaned forward with a quirk of his brows. “To me and Balthy, he's Cassie.”

Jessica asked, “Balthy? Is that the Balthazar that you dated?”

“Not necessarily dated, but-” Castiel started to explain.

Gabriel cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah, Physical release or whatever. Just glad I never have to catch Balthy pounding you into the mattress again. Ugh.” He made a face, shaking out his shoulders in a mocking display of disgust, but he quickly nudged his friend playfully.

“Whoa, you... bottom?” Charlie asked, eyes wide.

Dean promptly choked on his beer. Sam threw his arms up and stepped back to avoid the liquid suddenly being coughed up while Jess and Charlie stared at him, both confused and amused by the sudden reaction. Dean shot the redhead a strange look as he recovered.

Clearly, she ignored it. “What? It's nice to have some other non-hetero representation in the group for a change.” She looked straight at Dean who was suddenly a bit unnerved by it. “Guess you'll be joining the club eventually, Dean. So,” she continued as she turned back to Castiel beside her, “not like I want the deets on man bits, because gross, but isn't it amazing doing _stuff_ with someone of the same sex?”

“Depends on the partner,” Castiel answered honestly.

Charlie looked delighted. “Bisexual?”

Dean hadn't considered that Castiel was into women as well. Out of all the people that night at the club, what had made him take Dean home? And why a match with a man then? Why not a soulmate that could provide him with absolute acceptance, with children, with the picture-perfect family? Dean knew that he was half-assing this, that he was just beating around the bush. With double-the-pickings, Castiel had wanted Dean. He just couldn't understand any logic to it. He was a mess.

Castiel looked calm when he said, “I find beauty in all of God's creations.”

“Dogs?” Charlie's face scrunched up.

Castiel chuckled and shook his head. “Of the human variety, at least.”

“Pansexual?” Jessica interjected from across the table.

“I've never considered to label my sexuality,” Castiel said, idly running the tips of his fingers over the condensation forming on his glass of water. “I'm not even sure what that one means. I'm usually attracted to people that I make a connection with.”

Benny fell into the conversation as if he'd been there all along after claiming one of the free seats on the other side of Jesse. “Like our boy here?”

Castiel lifted his chin to gaze at Dean, catching his eyes. Dean was the first to look away with a slightly awkward cough. “You know,” Castiel started, bringing back Dean's attention, “for something that you wanted to keep secret, a lot of people seem to know. Did I miss the memo that we were no longer keeping a lid on it?”

“Huh,” Sam snorted with the sudden realization as he scanned the table. “We all do know. Who doesn't...” He paused and then nodded. “Dad. Does Bobby know?”

Dean shook his head.

Benny huffed a laugh, helping himself to pour a glass from the half-empty second pitcher of alcohol. “I'd hope your folks don't know. I'm surprised you told any of them.” He indicated the table before taking his first swig from his tall mug.

“Why not?” Jesse asked. “So Dean's soulmate is a man, none of us are judging him for it.”

Benny side-eyed Dean over the rim of his glass. As he set it back down, he affirmed, “Ah. They don't _know_ then.”

“Are we missing something here?” Sam asked, looking to Dean.

Dean vehemently shook his head, eyes practically bulging at Benny to keep his trap shut.

Benny pointed at Gabriel. “Do you know?”

Gabriel glanced at Castiel and smirked. “Considering how in-the-closet this one is,” he said as he flicked his hand in Dean's direction, “I'm confident that I know more than you. More than I care to know.” He rolled his eyes at his friend.

Castiel narrowed a scrutinizing gaze at Benny; the man wasn't referring to their TiMERs. Dean had told him about more than just their first meeting with the TiMERs claiming them as soulmates. Castiel's eyes flicked to Dean and then back to Benny. How much detail had he shared? By the slightly confused looks on half of the faces there, Benny was probably the only person that Dean had confided the extended truth to.

Benny grinned right back at Gabriel. “Glad I'm not the only one in the know.”

Charlie was suddenly pointing at Lisa with an accusing finger. “Lisa knows, too!”

“What?” Dean snapped.

“Lookit her face!” Charlie practically wailed. “That's a face that knows what's going on.”

Gabriel asked, “You told your ex-girlfriend about that?”

“Seriously, Dean,” Sam groaned, “What are they talking about?”

Dean shook his head, motioning with his hands for Charlie to stop shouting. “My sex life is none of your business.”

Sam's brow raised at that. “Your sex life? This is about Cas. What does-” He paused abruptly, eyes wide as pieces started to fall into place. “You already had sex with him?” he hissed in surprise.

Charlie's face lit up, mouth dropping before she got out a, “Holy shit.”

Dean was as white as a ghost, trying to hide himself behind the rim of his large mug. He didn't stop gulping his beer down until it was empty – and it had been almost half-full when he'd started. His mug slowly touched down on the table with a light clink. He should have denied it, but everyone was just staring at him, the answer already clearly on his face.

Castiel finally spoke up, demeanor surprisingly calm. “If Dean is uncomfortable with the subject, I believe we should move on to something else.”

“Hey, I don't want the details, man,” Sam said to Dean, hands raised to his chest. “You know I just want you to be happy. I didn't know you had... progressed into a relationship with Cas already. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I'm proud of you. You want to keep it between the two of you, that's fine with me.”

Dean quietly groaned and rolled his eyes.

Charlie spoke up before he could correct Sam. “Just tell me one thing. Why do Benny and Lisa know?”

“Because I'm a charming, non-threatening man that Dean can confide in?” Benny offered.

“Pfft,” Charlie scoffed, but turned her eyes to Lisa. “But your ex-girlfriend? No offense to you, girl, but the whole friends-after-breaking-up thing usually doesn't work out. Why are you telling her who you're having sex with?”

Benny nodded, giving Dean a sympathetic look. “Yeah, mate. It's kind of bad form.”

“Is that my cue to leave?” Lisa asking, pointing behind her.

“No,” Dean said, more sternly than anyone had anticipated, “stay if you want. Lisa's not the villain here, so stop bullying her.”

Charlie frowned, breathing in deep before she said, “I'm not trying to make her out to be a villain, Dean. It's just not all that normal, you know? To stay such close friends with your ex that you feel you can tell them something you're afraid to share with anyone else. Honestly, it makes me wonder if you're not over her, and you're dragging out this thing with Cas.”

“Normal?” Dean barked. “Nothing about my love life is normal! I'm a straight man matched to another man who I happened to meet six months before our TiMERs even went off. And apparently, I slept with him, but I was too drunk to remember all the details. And then I meet this awesome, beautiful woman, get a TiMER with her, and I've only got five days before I met that other guy again. But remember, I don't know that it's a guy, let alone the same guy.”

His voice was elevating, and a few other customers around the bar were peering over to see what the fuss was all about. “Still sound normal? I'm not even done yet. And then, I find out that I possibly knocked-up the one person I _wanted_ to spend my life with while trying to figure out how to deal with having a man for a soulmate. I almost died, but he saved my ass, and everyone wants to meet him-”

Sam stood up suddenly, grabbing Dean by the shoulders. “Wait, go back.”

Castiel stared down at Lisa's belly partially hidden by the table. “It's yours?”

Dean chewed on his bottom, shrugging. “Maybe?”

Sam snorted and started to drag Dean away from the table with a firm grip on his shoulder. “Birthday or not, I'm tired of you hiding crap from me. This talk can't wait.”

As Sam and Dean disappeared into the bathroom with Dean complaining the whole time, all eyes set on Lisa. She smiled sheepishly and waved with her fingers. “Surprise?”

* * *

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

Dean glanced back at the table while trying to pry his brother's large hand from his upper arm. Just how much had he had to drink? He counted the empty mug on the table next to Lisa whom everyone was currently starting at. Then there was the bottle of Margiekugel's lager before the latest group had shown up. He couldn't think of any other drinks – certainly, he couldn't be drunk already. Apparently, it was enough to loosen his tongue so that he could vomit up the one thing that he had been so carefully keeping to himself lately.

He twisted as Sam shoved him bodily into the bathroom, groaning about the Sasquatch needing to be more careful with his delicate frame. Sam just shook his head and scoffed at him.

“Dammit, Dean,” Sam huffed, rubbing his eyes, “I don't know whether to be mad at you or excited.”

“Excited?” That hadn't been what he had expected to hear from his brother.

“Yeah. I mean, I'll be an uncle.” Sam looked to Dean for clarification. “ _Might_ be?”

Dean nodded, eyes cast down. “Might be.”

“Why hide it? Jess and I would be thrilled at the prospect of being an aunt and uncle,” Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. He warily eyed the counter before he leaned his hip into it. “I wasn't going to hide it forever.”

“So showing up with a kid one day would be better?” Sam argued.

“How about telling you and then _not_ showing up with a kid?” Dean argued back. “There's no guarantee that it's even mine. I didn't know what to do. I still don't. And now Cas knows, and-” His eyes went wide, and he snatched his phone out of his pocket. “Crap. Cas probably already left after that outburst.”

But Castiel hadn't. Dean looked down at the new message on his screen. It was from Lisa.

“ _I've got Cas. Talk w your brother.”_

That didn't necessarily make him feel any better.

* * *

 

Castiel had been on the verge of leaving, turning to Gabriel to tell him so – he'd drive if he had to since Gabriel hadn't had time to wean off of his one drink. But Lisa had gotten up from her seat and moved to stand beside him. She had pointed to an abandoned corner of the bar and asked him if they could talk.

As they sat at a small table across from one another, to say that the air was tense was an understatement. Castiel was still sorting through how he felt about this whole affair. While he wanted to say that he wasn't a jealous man, sparks of the emotion were settling low in his gut. Honestly, it made him a little queasy. He hadn't been bothered before when he found out that Lisa was an ex-girlfriend. Was he jealous because of the child? Or because the child meant that she and Dean had been together not so long ago? If he was calculating correctly, at the very least, the last time that they had been intimate had been around the time that Dean had been revealed to be his soulmate.

The silence between them was deafening. Lisa kept looking down at her phone which was opened on a text message. It felt like a half-hour or more had gone by, but it had only been a few minutes when Lisa finally raised her eyes and said, “I know we don't know each other, but if there's anything you want to know – about me, the baby, Dean and I – just ask.” She worried on her bottom lip and started to rub soothing circles over her rounded tummy. “I'll try to be as honest as I can.”

Castiel took a deep breath, leaning over to rest his elbows on the table and dropped his chin onto his knuckles. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I feel I should hear this from Dean. You shouldn't have to answer for him.”

Lisa nodded. “I can't apologize for Dean, but I didn't want you to run off before he had a chance to talk with you. If that's what he wants to do. I also don't want you to lose hope because of me or the baby. If there's anything that I can make clearer for you-”

“What do you want from Dean?” Castiel suddenly asked, his voice low but nonthreatening.

“Nothing,” Lisa answered quietly. “Not really.”

“What does that mean?” he asked for clarity rather than out of suspicion.

Lisa explained, hands resting on her belly, “It's been nice not being alone in this pregnancy despite telling myself that I'd be okay with that. Dean's been really sweet, and I don't know if it's genuine interest or a guilty conscience. I didn't ask him to be involved, and I told him that he didn't have to take responsibility whether or not the baby is his.”

“Why did you tell him then?” If she wanted to provide answers, Castiel would take advantage while he could. He glanced over to the table where the others had finally given up trying to crane their rubber necks to get any whiff of the conversation. Currently, Jessica was challenging Gabriel to an arm wrestling match, and it looked like they might have been on even ground.

“It's silly, really. I told him because of you,” Lisa said.

Castiel brought his eyes back to the dark-haired woman and blinked. “Me?”

She lightly chuckled. “Dean can tell you why he called me out of the blue a few months after we had broken up and after he had met his soulmate. He told me about you and how crazy it was.” She paused to give him a once-over and a smile. “I'm not so sure it's as crazy as he thinks it is. I sort of thought I'd get his mind off of it and one-up his crazy soulmate meeting.”

“I don't understand what this has to do with-” Castiel started, but stopped as Lisa held out her wrist. He saw her exposed TiMER and read the 102 days and change ticking down on the electronic device.

She was already continuing while Castiel was working out the math. “Finding out your soulmate is someone of the same sex when you thought you were heterosexual probably has low odds.” She chuckled quietly. “Even lower when it's someone you also randomly met and had sex with before. Different sort of crazy, but you don't find too many men that are interested in women that are about to have kids – like, literally popping one out. Eight days before my due date. I... don't know what I'm expecting.”

Castiel nodded, mildly impressed. “That is quite the conundrum. I can't say what I'd do if I were on the other side of that.”

“You sort of are,” Lisa commented, “You've met your soulmate, and he _might_ be having someone else's kid. I didn't want him or his soulmate to have to worry about that when they needed to focus on their new relationship. When Dean started trying to figure out the timeframe, I just told him. I'm afraid it's only added more stress.”

Castiel could tell from her drawn brows and downcast eyes that she felt genuinely bad about it. “We're both grown men. I'm sure we can handle it,” he told her.

Lisa glanced up to catch his small smile.

“I'm not entirely comfortable with the situation...” he began to admit to her.

She rambled, “Just say the word, and I'm out. Connecting with Dean is hard enough without the extra baggage to deal with. I can go back to my original plan to-”

Castiel help up his hands. “That's- that's not what I want, Lisa. I know it's not what Dean would want either since he's still in contact with you. The two of you have intimate history, and neither of you need to forget that ever existed, but I mean no offense when I say that I don't expect you and I to become friends.”

Lisa laughed, waving her hand. “Heaven's no! You made me break up with a great guy. No hard feelings though.”

* * *

 

“Look, I'm not sorry that I didn't tell you, Sam,” Dean said to his brother, “I am sorry that it came out like this though.”

“Do you want to talk about Cas?” Sam asked, taking Dean's apology to change the topic.

“What _about_ Cas?”

Sam cleared his throat. As he started to open his mouth to speak, someone opened the door to the bathroom, and he shut it again. He gave the man with a mullet a nod – a mutual acquaintance that they knew from Ellen's bar.

“Hey, Ash,” Dean greeted with a small nod of his own.

Ash seemed to survey the room and placatingly held out his hands in front of him. “Woah, tense air. Sorry, I gotta take a piss too much to see myself out if you're in the middle of something. I'll be quick.”

“It's fine,” Sam said.

Ash looked over his shoulder as he unzipped his pants to take care of business in front of a urinal. “Hey, was that your old girl I saw out there, Dean? Chattin' it up with some other dude.”

Dean kept his back to Ash, but nodded anyway. “Yeah, man. It's cool though.”

“Oh, okay. We could've gotten Ellen and Jo to run interference, otherwise. What was her name again?” Ash zipped back up and flushed his urinal. He crowded into Dean's space to wash his hands at the sink.

Dean stepped back to give the other man more room, shaking his head. “Lisa. I invited her. The, uh... other man is here for me, too.”

“Okay,” Ash simply said, drying his hands with some paper towels.

Sam kept watching Dean, probably expecting him to explain the predicament between Lisa and Castiel, but he knew it wasn't his place to say anything about it to anyone else. He could have teased Dean, but this was a serious matter, and Sam wanted to clear the air before he could take it light-heartedly.

Ash turned just before he got to the door to leave. “Hey, I remember that she got a TiMER with you. Let her know that if she's interested, I can get her a list of people with a matching time for a small fee...” He gave a quick wink.

“Uh, sure Ash.” Dean nodded hesitantly.

Alone again as Ash exited the bathroom, Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Sure there's nothing you want to say about Cas?”

Dean shook his head.

“Nothing at all.” Sam rolled his eyes and tightened his arms. “Right. That was a pretty big revelation just now, and you told the guy that you didn't want him.”

“What? I-” Dean scowled. “I didn't say that.”

“Did we hear the same rant?”

Dean went over what he had said, eyes flitting around as if trying to read from a script. “No.” He stood up straight, not matching his younger brother's height, but nonetheless taking a stance. “No, I said that I wanted to be with _Lisa_. I'm still figuring it out with Cas.”

Sam raised a brow. “You basically told him that you didn't want him, Dean.”

“I didn't. I... shit.”

* * *

 

Castiel dropped his hands into his lap as he leaned back in his chair. “Does the other potential father know?” he asked Lisa.

Lisa shook her head. “It was... no, he doesn't know.”

Her hesitation was enough for Castiel to not press further on that subject. Instead, he brought up Dean again. “Have you made any plans with Dean for when the baby arrives?”

Lisa glanced once at the still-closed bathroom door. “Just a test to determine if he is the father. He says that he wants to know, but I don't know what he wants to do after he's found out.”

There wasn't much else Castiel felt that he could ask of her at that point. Anything left, he would likely need and want to hear from Dean. He wondered what right he even had to ask these things in the first place. Castiel wanted to believe that Dean could be open with him, but until they formed an actual relationship, he was realizing that he couldn't expect anything of Dean, not really. It was a sobering thought.

“What do you want, Castiel?” Lisa suddenly asked.

“What?” he replied, caught off guard.

“What do you want?” she repeated, and then she clarified, “For yourself. With Dean. With the baby? You've been really calm about all of this. I... wondered how you actually felt.”

Castiel considered her question, but before he could answer, he caught sight of Dean and Sam exiting the men's room from the corner of his eye on the far left. Sam rejoined the others at the table, but Dean made a bee-line straight for them once he saw where they had transitioned themselves for a more quiet conversation.

Just before Dean was within earshot, Castiel quietly admitted to Lisa, “I'll accept whatever will make us both happy.” It was the truth, and not. Castiel wanted everything. Despite being soulmates, he knew it might take some time before Dean could give him that. While Castiel didn't have to like it, he could learn to live with it for now.

Dean set a gentle hand on Lisa's shoulder as he stepped up behind her. “Thanks, Lisa. I can take it from here,” he said.

Lisa patted the hand on her shoulder and stood. She had Dean tilt his head down towards her just enough so that she could whisper into his ear. Castiel couldn't hear her words, but Dean listened to them intently and nodded with a visible swallow in response. The woman pulled back with a tight smile and made her way back to the original group.

Dean took the seat that she had occupied across from Castiel. Again, Castiel had to sit in silence for some time with someone that wanted to speak with him. After a few minutes of watching Dean shift around in his chair and fiddling with his thumbs, Castiel rolled his eyes and moved his chair back so that he could stand. He'd made a show of it to get a rise out of Dean, and it worked.

Dean threw up his hands and motioned back to the seat. “Don't leave, Cas,” Dean pleaded, his jaw tightening as Castiel sat back down. “Crap. I don't even know where to start. Not after that.” He groaned. “Starting to feel less like a birthday party and more like an intervention.”

Castiel didn't bring up the fact that Dean had insisted before that this wasn't a 'party'. He did give an exasperated groan of his own though and did not pull his chair back under the table. “You brought the intervention on yourself.”

Dean grimaced at that.

Castiel continued, “What do you expect me to do? You've been fighting everything that this _thing_ could stand for.” He lifted up his shirt sleeve to show his TiMER. “You were against them when we first met. Had a fake one, even, so you could more easily hook-up with someone. Oh, I'm sorry. _Women._ It was Lisa that made you get one, wasn't it? The one person that you _did_ want to spend the rest of your life with.”

Dean only nodded, still quiet and expecting more stern words from Castiel.

So, Castiel kept going. “I can see why you fell for her, Dean. I don't blame you for that. I don't understand why you had to get a TiMER to prove anything to her though. Did the thought of a future with her really make you cave in and go through with it? You could have just gotten married and had children with her.” He took in a breath and slouched in his chair. “If you would have never gotten that TiMER, Dean, you could have stayed with Lisa for longer, and your relationship could have run its course. We might have found each other again and fallen in love later. When you were ready. I-”

“Dammit, Cas. You think I don't know this already?” Dean barked. “I've gone over the what-ifs too many times now. For someone so confident in these damn things, you're not painting them with rave reviews right now. Why do you think- I- Jesus, Cas. You're right that getting this thing was a mistake. I hate how stressed out I've been, how I've treated you because of it, how I've dealt with Lisa in all of this. I don't deserve love and happiness. I never deserved either of you.”

Castiel titled his head and creased his brows at Dean's words. “That's not true,” he said.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “TiMERs are for people like you. The dreamers that want to believe. It's nothing but trouble for people like me. I'm not built for love.”

“But Lisa gave you a reason to believe in it, Dean,” Castiel pointed out. “Some people don't fall in love, and that's fine. You at least cared enough about this woman to open your heart. If you... want to go back to her, then I can't stop you.”

Dean snapped his head up sharply, eyes wide. “Cas...”

“Dean.” Castiel wanted to reach out to him, but kept his back firmly against the chair. “I don't want you to feel like your choices are being taken from you. We may be fated, but it should be on our own terms. My terms only ask that you don't push away from me, and we could try to be friends. I've waited a long time for you. I want to get to know you. If you'll let me. What happens beyond that, it's up to you. We could try to continue to see other people until it is our time, but I'll admit that I won't be able to hold up my side of that arrangement.” He smiled almost sadly at Dean.

Dean was quiet, his face slack in thought. Castiel watched his brows crease and uncrease as he filtered through the thoughts. He wondered what the other man was thinking. It was the best deal Dean was ever going to get, so he should jump on it while Castiel still had the patience for it. One day, he knew being friends was not going to be nearly enough.

Dean looked up again, his gaze serious. “I swear to you that it's not the alcohol talking when I say that I don't want that. I do _like_ you, Cas. But it's not... I don't know. I feel like an asshole even thinking it. I'm not...”

Castiel set Dean with a hard glare. “If this is about you not being gay, I swear-”

“No,” Dean interrupted, “No. That's not it.” He quietly chuckled, but couldn't quite look Castiel in the eyes. “I've been schooled many times about my... sexuality, I guess. Everyone seems to think they know how I feel. I'm not even sure _I_ know how I feel. We're soulmates, right?” At Castiel's nod, Dean continued, “Then why don't I feel something _more_ for you?”

Castiel blinked slowly, realization settling in, “You're trying to tell me that you're not in love with me.”

Dean's mouth twitched and his eyes fell again. “I'm sorry, Cas.”

Castiel started to laugh, a quiet rumble that crinkled his nose and the corners of his eyes. Dean failed to see why that was funny. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking for all the world like he had been the one who had received the opposite of a love confession.

The other man straightened his shoulders, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he worked to calm himself. Castiel finally explained, “I don't love you either, Dean.”

“You're... really?”

“Really.” Castiel gave him a small shrug. “It doesn't have to mean love at first sight with TiMERs. I am attracted to you, of course, and I usually enjoy your company. I told you that I want to be friends. The rest can figure itself out.” He paused with a smile. “Seems I'll have my work cut out for me though.”

Dean's shoulders slouched, his weight falling back on his chair. That was... Not loving Castiel, but then knowing that Castiel didn't love him either was... Dean didn't know how to cope with that. He felt relieved, but sorely disappointed. Maybe he really _was_ unloveable.

“Should we...” Castiel caught Dean's attention again after those green eyes had drifted away in thought. He pointed over to the group of Dean's friends and Gabriel. “Unless there's more you'd like to discuss with me?”

Dean glanced over his right shoulder, shaking his head. “We, uh, can continue this later. We're... good?”

Castiel eased out of his chair and gave Dean a small nod. “Of course. We should turn this back into a celebration of your birth.”

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually play pool, so I'm sorry that I don't represent it well here... limited knowledge.  
> Also, my Word document for this fic (just for Part 3) reached over 100 pages!

* * *

“Rack 'em up, Sam,” Dean ordered, pointing at the green expanse of the pool table with the tilted bottle of his newest beer.

“You breaking then?” Sam asked, as he set the triangle down and started to place the balls inside of it in a random order.

Dean nodded and grabbed a cue stick from the rack behind him.  He turned to see Castiel watching Sam aligning the triangle full of balls above the white dot on the table.  “Heya, Cas.”  He continued when blue eyes met his green.  “You play?”

Castiel shook his head.  “I know the general rules of the game, but never tried it for myself.”

Dean set down his beer to rest a hand lightly on another stick in the rack.  “You interested?”

“Looks more enjoyable than dancing,” Castiel said, remembering the last time he had tried dancing back at the club with Balthazar almost a year ago and hating nearly every minute of it.  He leaned onto the edge of the table.  “I'll eventually give it a try.”

“How 'bout now?” Dean tried again since the man clearly hadn't gotten the invitation to play the first time he'd asked.

Castiel stood straight, blinking slightly.  “Oh, I thought you and Sam were going to play.  I would need an equally experienced opponent to keep the game fair though.  Does pool have handicaps?”

Sam looked at Dean and then at Castiel.  “We could do a team game, if you want.  Two-versus-two.”  He grabbed Jessica around the waist and pulled her close to him.  “Soulmates-versus-soulmates?”

Castiel was quiet as Dean sucked in a sharp breath of surprise.  At least everyone here knew about their soulmate bond, but he still couldn’t help the immediate response of wanting to shush his brother.  

Charlie, who was seated at a small round table that the others had claimed to watch the game, laughed and warned them, “If Dorothy were here, we could mop up the lot of you.”

Gabriel, also seated at the same table, shrugged.  “I prefer watching Kali play over _ actually _ playing.”

Dean gave him a knowing nod with pursed lips.  “Is Kali your... girl?”  Gabriel was straight, right?  Dean was trying to remember what he had heard about the man.

“She's absolutely my girl, but don't tell her that,” Gabriel said with a smirk. “She's more like a goddess, really.  Smart, feisty, strong-willed, beautiful.  We give each other hell, but we're perfect for each other,” he finished with a flick of his wrist that indicated his TiMER.

“Gotta picture?” Charlie asked, lips curling into a smile.

Gabriel held up his phone to the redhead after a few moments of flipping through the screen with his fingers.  “Hot.  Right?”

Charlie nodded, leaning over the table to get a good look.  “She’s on fire!”  She high-fived Gabriel as Lisa and Benny both nodded in agreement.

Gabriel turned the phone so that Dean and Castiel could see the screen.  Dean whistled his approval of the bronzed-skinned beauty.  He didn’t want to say aloud that he wasn’t all that impressed - yeah, she was hot, but it was the TiMERs that had brought them together.  This short stack didn’t have to play the hard game to get this woman that was probably way out of his league.  But because of the TiMER, she wasn’t  _ really _ out of his league though, right?

Sam cleared his throat.  “Well, we playing teams or not?”

“Sure,” Dean answered over his shoulder, looking to Castiel.  “If you’re up for it.”

Castiel nodded and took the pool stick that Dean held out for him.  “Of course.”

“Wanna make a bet?” Jessica suggested.  She smiled.  “Twenty bucks each?”

Sam shook his head.  “How about something more interesting?  Fifty bucks each if we add in a rule that you have to touch your teammate during their turn.” 

Castiel beat Dean to the punch when he asked, “Touching somewhere specific or anywhere?”

Sam shrugged.  “Wherever.  We’re in a public establishment, so it’s not like we can get  _ too  _ nasty about it.”  He winked at his fiance.  “What do you say, Dean?”

Dean groaned.  “What are you?  A frat boy looking for an excuse to touch your girl?”  He rolled his eyes.  “You can do that whenever you want.”

Lisa raised her hand.  “Sounds entertaining to watch though...”

The others at the table nodded.  Castiel’s cheeks lightly flushed with color.

“If you guys really want to…”  Dean glanced over to Castiel.  “I’m not one to back down from a challenge, but if you don’t have the money or if it’ll make you uncomfortable, Cas…”

“I’m fine with it.  I happen to have fifty dollars on me, so that’s not an issue,” Castiel told him.  He wasn’t going to tell Dean that he would be more than pleased with an excuse to touch his soulmate, but he did give Sam a secretive smile that he hoped the other man would understand as amused gratitude.

Sam broke down most of the rules and showed Castiel how to play pool while Dean fell back to chat with their little audience at the table.  Jessica chimed in with helpful hints that she had learned along the way, confident that Castiel would be a quick learner.

Once the game began - Benny holding on to the collected $200 in his front pocket and acting as a referee - Castiel did prove to be a quick learner.  Not a natural, as some would say, but Dean was pleased that they were holding their ground against Sam and Jessica.  Charlie was almost a little disappointed that Castiel hadn’t turned out to be a klutz with the game.  

Dean and Castiel tended to touch each other’s shoulders during their turn.  Sam and Jessica were having much more fun with it and changing up where they were touching each time - head, ear, neck, shoulder, elbow, back.  If the pattern fit, Castiel guessed that Sam would touch Jessica’s thigh on her next turn.  Castiel felt the stirrings of jealousy over how perfect of a couple that they appeared to be.  They worked well as a team, strategizing and playing off one another’s shots.  They were confident and comfortable with each other.

It was Castiel’s turn next, and he was a bit surprised when Dean lifted himself backwards up onto the edge of the pool table next to him.  He watched Dean take a swig of beer, the other man’s adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, his lips puckering just so around the opening, and his tongue darting out to catch the taste of the alcohol on his lips as he pulled the bottle back down.  There was nothing vulgar about it, but Castiel found it mildly erotic anyway.  He really liked Dean’s mouth.

Dean smiled with that mouth, a quick flash of teeth.  “All you, buddy.”  

Castiel took stock of the ball positions on the table before he took a proper stance over the edge of the table.  His hand flinched minutely around the pool stick when Dean’s hand landed low on his back.  The cue ball hit a solid ball rather than the striped right next to it that he had been aiming for.  Luckily, the solid did not drop into the middle pocket across from him, but unluckily, the cue ball did.  Castiel grimaced, and Dean quietly swore.  Even Castiel knew that a cue ball wasn’t supposed to go in the pocket and had been able to avoid it, until now.

Jessica gave Sam a fistbump and pulled the cue ball out of the pocket.  She took her time looking over the table, so Castiel moved to the watcher table to wait it out.  Jessica finally set the cue ball down, waited for Sam to bend down and place his hand on her hip, and easily pocketed a solid ball to put them back in the lead. 

“Having fun?” Gabriel asked Castiel.  “You look like you know what you’re doing over there.  Maybe not so much with the last turn though.”

Castiel leaned against the table near his friend, glancing over at the pool table.  He nodded as he watched Sam considering the most ideal position for his chance at scoring.  “It’s math.”

“Math?” Gabriel snorted.

“Yes,” Castiel said, “angles, force, speed, trajectory.  It’s a different sort of math than I’m used to, but it’s not overly difficult to figure out.”

“Right.  I forgot that you of all people would have fun with  _ math _ ,” Gabriel mocked him with an amused roll of his eyes and a shake of his head.

Sam had gotten another ball into a corner pocket with Jessica squatted down next to him and her hand resting on his thigh.  There were only two more solids before they got to hit the final 8-ball.  Dean and Castiel still had four more stripes until their final turn.  They lucked out when Jessica failed to score again.

It was Dean’s turn, and he quickly took place at the pool table to take a shot.  Clearly, he was getting a bit antsy about suddenly lagging behind in the game.  Castiel watched Dean carefully, watched him sink down to get an eye-level view of the table and the balls, watched him stretch back up and walk around the table to the opposite side.  Dean shook his head and came back around, leaning over the table.  He seemed to have decided where he wanted to take his stance since he bent down at the waist, curving his back.

“I understand now when you said that you prefer watching Kali play,” Castiel quietly admitted to his friend over his shoulder.  

Again, Castiel knew that it wasn’t meant to be anything sexual, but the stance that Dean took was very flattering, he thought.  Not only did it showcase the firm muscles along his back, but there was a very clear view of his firm buttocks molding a fine curve in his dark jeans…  He hadn’t even had anything alcoholic to drink, but he was still entertaining lewd thoughts about his soulmate.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean barked, “get over here and touch me!”  Stifled giggles broke out around him, and Dean rolled his eyes.  

Gabriel winked as Castiel stepped back over to the pool table.  Castiel looked down at his hand and then over Dean’s back, wondering where he could comfortably touch the other man.  Someone else had ideas for him since a hand suddenly appeared on Dean’s left buttcheek.  

Dean froze and slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder at Castiel.  His brows were furrowed as Castiel held up both of his hands in innocence.  Both of them moved their gaze to the culprit - one redheaded friend who was squatting on the floor behind Dean.  Charlie giggled and sauntered off back to her chair, but not before Dean got in a light tap on her head with the end of the pool stick.

After that, Castiel stuck to the shoulder area - it was safe. They took turns knocking in three more balls before Castiel could only make a play to make Sam and Jesse’s next turn more difficult.

While Castiel waited for the other soulmates to take their turn, he hovered between the pool table and the designated watcher’s table.  He overheard his name, so he scooted a little closer to the watcher’s table.

Gabriel was telling Lisa, “Cassie tried to calm me down with a trip to a baby store the other day, but I don't really think that it worked.”

“Oh, yeah.” Lisa sucked in air through her teeth in sympathy.  “Baby stores are pretty intimidating.  I just started adding things to a registry, and they recommend so many things!  It's rather daunting.  Will this... be your first, too?”

Castiel turned his head to see Gabriel smiling.  “Yep,” his friend said. “Kali's a bit of a career woman, and I think she's more freaked out about it than I am.  She's a strong-willed woman, too, so I'm terrified of what that's going to be like with pregnancy hormones in the mix.”

“Maybe you'll get lucky, and she'll be the type to get super horny,” Lisa said with a small shrug.

Gabriel’s eyes widened.  “Whoa, I heard that was a thing.  How high is that percentage?  Is that your case?”

Lisa nodded and groaned, stirring the ice around in her glass with a straw.

“Currently single, right?” Gabriel asked with an impish grin.  Castiel recognized that look and knew that his friend was about to suggest something absurd.

“Yep,” she answered with a clear pop of the 'p', and then she slurped her water through the straw.

Gabriel reached out to swat at Castiel’s hip.  “Hey, hey, Cassie.  Think Balthy would be interested in taking our new friend for a spin?”

Castiel squinted in confusion.  “For a...” He looked at Lisa and realized what the man had been insinuating.  “Gabriel, no.”

Gabriel scoffed, “She's pregnant.  It's not like she's taken a vow of chastity to become a nun.”

“That’s not the issue,” Castiel said.

“Balthy?”  Lisa asked, looking up at Castiel.  “The Balthazar that slept with Cas?”

Charlie was quiet, but her eyes were alight with curiosity the whole time.  Benny might have considered offering his services, but he wasn’t about to get on Dean’s bad side by suggesting to sleep with his ex-girlfriend.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Gabriel again.  “While I can't argue Balthazar's possible interest in the proposal, I think that for personal reasons, it would be in bad taste.”

“Oh, come on, Cassie,” Gabriel whined.  “Don't be a stiff.  You know Balthy would show her a good time.  So he sleeps around.  He's probably more cordial to his one-night-stands than your boy is.”

Castiel bristled at the backhanded comment, glancing at his soulmate who, thankfully, wasn't paying much attention to Gabriel and was instead focused on Sam's shot on the red #3 ball.  Dean groaned as the ball plinked right into a corner pocket.  Castiel turned back to Gabriel and gave him a very disapproving look.

Gabriel shrugged, leaning back leisurely in his chair.  “What?  You know I'm right about that, too, bro.”

Castiel rolled his eyes.  “And you know I dislike it when you call me 'bro'.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean called him over.  “It’s our turn again.”  He blinked, frowning.  “Were you even paying attention?  Sam and Jess only have one more before they can start on the eight ball.”

Castiel joined Dean at the table and looked over the new arrangement of balls since his last turn.  Sam and Jessica watched with almost twin smiles.  Castiel leaned over the table with the side of his hip against it to line up his stick with the cue ball that was hugging the inner lip of the table.  Dean's hand landed low on his back as the other man settled next to him.

Castiel hadn't forgotten about the hand-on-the-soulmate rule, but it still gave him pause before he could hit the ball.  The warmth of Dean's hand was only mildly distracting.  He could hear the moment that Dean took in a quick breath and held it after he hit the cue ball.  It wasn't a difficult shot, but Castiel was pleased when the ball hit the green solid with just enough force to roll into the yellow stripe and drop it into the opposite middle pocket without also dropping the solid.

“All right!”  Dean moved the hand on Castiel's back to hold it out for a high five.  Castiel turned to slap his partner's hand.

Dean situated himself at the corner of the pool table near the cue ball and scanned his eyes over the green table top.  As Castiel moved to stand near him in preparation for his turn, Dean leaned over to ask him without removing his gaze from the table, “What're Lisa and your friend talking about?”  His tone was casual and curious.

“Gabriel was considering hooking up our exes,” Castiel told him matter-of-factly.

Dean had been leaning further over to line up a shot when he snapped back up at Castiel's words.  “He what?”

“I advised against it,” Castiel said, “Given all of our history, I thought it might be in bad taste.”

Dean's eyes turned to Gabriel and Lisa, brows scrunching up.  “Damn right, it's in bad taste.”  He wasn't shouting, but Sam and Jessica perked up from the other side of the table at his tone.

“Hey, it's your turn!” Sam griped at his brother as Dean stepped away from the table.

“Hold your horses!” Dean snapped back, his pool stick still in hand.

“What's up, Birthday Boy?” Gabriel greeted Dean as the man stood before the small table.  He nonchalantly told him, “Been getting to know your girl here.  Seems she's in a bit of a predicament.”

“Drop it, Gabriel,” Castiel gently warned him.

Gabriel eyed the tight grip that Dean had around the pool stick.  “Surely, we can all agree to help a lady in need.”

Dean stood up straighter, staring down at Gabriel.  “And what do you thinks she _ needs _ , buddy?”

Gabriel looked over to Lisa with a raised brow, seeking permission to explain because he could be  _ gentlemanly _ like that.  “What'll it be, miss?”

Lisa gave him a small smile with just a quirk of her lips.  “I haven't exactly put myself out there, but, yes, Gabriel, you're right.  I could use a man in my bed.”

“But your TiMER,” Dean half-heartedly argued.

“I still have a few months before I meet him,” Lisa argued right back, “And when I do finally meet him, who knows what sort of shape I'll be in.  I at least won't get a chance to jump him right after the baby is born.  I... would like to get this out of my system before then.”

Dean frowned, loosely holding his pool stick at his side.  “Is it... still safe for the baby?”

Lisa at least held most of the giggle in, but Gabriel sputtered through his laugh.  Castiel, Benny, and Charlie shrugged at him.  

By then, Jessica and Sam had joined them, and Jessica nodded at Dean.  “Yes, Dean,” she told him. “If she couldn’t have sex during pregnancy, her doctor would have told her.”  

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed out, “Whatever, Lisa.  It’s your body.  Just not this Balthazar guy.”

Lisa raised a brow of challenge at him.  “What if I want to hear more about this Balthy guy?”

“For the love of-” Dean hissed.  

Gabriel nudged Castiel’s hip, pushing him away from the table towards Dean.  “If you want any details of the man’s prowess in bed, my friend here can vouch for him.  Isn’t that right, Cassie?”

“You’re correct again, Gabriel, but,” Castiel said as Dean groaned, “this really isn’t the time.  I’ve already given my opinion on the matter.  Maybe trade contact information and set her up when neither of us are listening in.”

Charlie was apparently filling up a mental gallery that evening since she asked, “Do you have a picture of him?”

Gabriel beamed and brought out his phone again.  Charlie shrugged when she looked at it.  “Sorry, I’m not a good judge of men.  I guess he’s good looking?” she question as she handed off the phone to Lisa.

Lisa had barely the chance to look at it before Dean snatched the thing.  He looked up at Castiel.  “You slept with this douchenozzle?”

“Douchenozzle?”  Castiel blinked, almost offended for his friend but unsure what had warranted the name-calling.

“Hey, Balthy is an outstanding man!”  Gabriel barked, jabbing a pointed finger in Dean’s direction.

Dean quickly handed the phone back to Gabriel and growled, “Then  _ you _ go sleep with him.”

Gabriel shrugged.  “I would if I swung that way.  The things I heard while living with him…” He whistled. “The man knew what he was doing.  You can use your imagination.  Also, I’m taken.”

Dean groaned and turned on his heels to go back over to the pool table.  Not surprisingly, Dean missed after he haphazardly hit the cue ball with his stick, but Castiel hadn’t gotten close enough to lay a hand on him like they had promised when making up the rules for their game.

Sam followed behind Dean and cleared his throat.  “Forgetting something, Dean?”

Dean sneered at him, found his beer nearby, and took a long swig of it until it was empty.

“Everything alright?” Jessica asked.

“Yeah, just peachy,” Dean answered with a scowl.

The couple exchanged looks but had been around Dean long enough to know that they shouldn’t prod at the bull.  ‘Just peachy’ usually wasn’t good.  

“Whatever you say,” Sam said as he shook his head.  He stood behind Jessica, and settled a hand on her waist, choosing to finish up their turn while following the rules that they had created.  In the event that someone didn’t touch their teammate, they had earlier agreed to forfeit their turn; Castiel hadn’t been touching Dean while he played, so Sam and Jessica just took their turns as usual.

To no one’s surprise, Jessica dropped the final solid ball into into a pocket while Dean frowned on the opposite side of the table away from everyone else.  Sam started to open his mouth to speak with his brother, saw the annoyed look on his face, and went to the cue ball instead to make the possible winning shot of the game.

Castiel watched Dean instead of the pool table.  The man seemed visibly upset by their conversation, and Castiel was trying to figure out what exactly was bothering him.  He was sure that Gabriel had struck a nerve, but was he upset because Lisa wanted to sleep with Balthazar or because he  _ had _ ?

Dean suddenly groaned, dropping his pool stick on the table and then throwing up his arms.  Castiel glanced at the table long enough to notice that the 8-ball was no longer there, so Sam and Jessica had won the game.  When he looked up again, he heard Dean murmur that he was going to go get some air. 

It only took Jessica saying, “Go, go,” and the others waving their arms at him in a shooing motion for Castiel to leave his pool stick behind, grab his coat, and walk out of the Roadhouse Bar barely a minute after Dean.  He may not have been the best at reading people, but he didn’t need to be told twice to understand the gestures this time.  Lisa had made no move to chase after him, but her thoughts had run with the rest of the group to see if Castiel could handle it.  God knows he’d have a lifetime more of the man’s tantrums to deal with.

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

Dean stood outside of the Roadhouse Bar and was already starting to freeze his nuts off.  “Crap,” he quietly swore.  In his haste to get away from the others, he had forgotten his jacket.  He could mostly handle the cold, but it was still January, and it was still fucking cold.  He hovered over the decision to go back inside to get it or to tough it out while he took a short breather.

“Dean!”

He turned towards the bar’s entrance to find Castiel briskly walking towards him.  His heart gave a pathetic leap into his throat at the sight of his soulmate.  It wasn’t a surprise that someone had followed him, but rather, Dean was surprised that he felt pleased that Castiel had been the one to chase him down.

Castiel gave him a stern look before he noticed that the other man was without proper winter attire.  “Dean, why… your coat.  You must be freezing.”  He shrugged his bulky tan-colored trench coat off of his shoulders and slipped his arms out of the sleeves, leaving him in his navy button-up shirt.  “Here, take this while I get yours,” he urged.

“You don’t have to…” Dean said a bit flustered, but he took the offered coat and felt utterly ridiculous as he put it on.  “Thanks, I-”

“I’ll be right back,” Castiel said, and then he was gone.

Dean was alone again.  He did feel a little better though under Castiel’s long coat.  It was perhaps thinner than his own, but it calmed the bite in the air.  He rubbed his palms together in front of his chest and then huffed warm breath between his cupped hands.

Alone with his thoughts while he waited for Castiel, Dean was trying to rationalize why he had even gotten so worked up in the first place.  Gabriel.  He knew fault fell with that instigator of trouble at least.  He had only known the man for about an hour, but Dean would swear it was Gabriel’s life-calling to jab at him until he found something that would finally give him an aneurysm.  Good thing Gabriel was Castiel’s friend and not his own, or else he’d have probably strangled him already (or Dean would have burst one of his own veins - whichever came first).

Balthazar.  There was another problem.  Why was Castiel friends with these dickbags?  He didn’t know Balthazar at all…   _ What has he done to personally offend me? _ Dean wondered, and his only answers stemmed from two people that he cared about.  Gabriel’s jabbing hadn’t helped his case.  Balthazar had slept with Castiel and was still in his life.  He knew that sounded childish and dumb since the same could be said about him and Lisa. __ But he definitely had a problem with even the thought of Balthazar also sleeping with Lisa.  They were all adults and had the right to do as they pleased, but Dean felt irked by it all anyway.

Maybe he was irritated and slightly on edge because he himself hadn’t gotten laid in what felt like forever.  Although he didn’t date for long stretches of time (with almost six months under their belts, Lisa was the longest relationship he’d had, and years before that had been only two months long), this was the longest dry spell he’d ever endured since he’d started having sex.  He’d stopped trying to lay on the thick charm months ago after he realized that he just wasn’t feeling it anymore.  God knows he could use the de-stressor though.

Apparently, if he wasn’t getting any, he didn’t want others getting any either?  Dean groaned up at the black and starry sky.   _ Yeah, I’m a real catch.   _ He heard the door of the bar creak, and Dean looked back to see Castiel exit the building with his jacket draped over his arm.

“Here,” Castiel said as he held out his arm.

Dean shook his head, tugging on the collar of the coat that he was already wearing closer to his neck.  He gave Castiel a small smile before he suggested, “You wear it.  For now.  I’ve already got one.”

Castiel didn’t argue, but he did narrow his eyes at Dean as he deliberated over accepting his offer.  The two of them weren’t that different in size - perhaps Castiel was a tad bit slimmer and shorter - so the green waxed cotton jacket fit just fine as Castiel slipped it on.  It had looked thin at a glance, and he was surprised to feel that it was thick and likely insulated on the inside.  Dean’s jacket was much better suited for this colder weather, so Castiel felt a smidgen of guilt over the trade.

“I apologize about Gabriel,” Castiel suddenly said. “I suspected as much that he might cause trouble.  I should have went with my first instinct to make him go home.”

Dean shook his head and stuck his hands in the coat pockets near his hips.  “Is he always like that?”

“More or less,” Castiel replied humorlessly.

Dean chuckled anyway.  Curiously, he asked, “How’d you end up friends with him anyway?”

Castiel answered with the truth, knowing that it would probably bother Dean.  “Because I found him and his roommate attractive.”  He paused to watch the muscles of Dean’s jaw twitch.  “It was many years ago, and they had an apartment next to mine.  I’m not sure what happened exactly, but I know I hated all of the noise they made until I finally joined them one day.”

“You think Gabriel’s attractive?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean in slight confusion.  “Of course.  I wouldn’t have said so if that were untrue.  I know you don’t care much for his personality, but I presume that you  _ don’t _ find my friend attractive?”

Dean looked down at his boots and shrugged.  “I… you know.”  He huffed a large cloud of breath and continued, “Not into guys, remember?  But I guess I can see why some chicks might dig him?  Kinda short though.”

“Is Gabriel unattractive because of his height?”

“Uh…”  Dean glanced up at Castiel, his lips quirking into a small frown as he processed the question.  “Women usually like taller men?”

“I’m not your usual woman.”

Dean looked up to catch Castiel’s stern gaze.   _ Is this guy being serious?   _ He certainly looked serious.  Stiff posture, unwavering focus.   _ Here I go offending him again. _

Castiel tilted his head forward and raised a brow, his features softening.  “That was supposed to be a joke.”

Dean huffed out a nervous laugh.  “Right.  I guess you’re not a woman.  Or very usual for that matter.” 

“So I’ve been told.”  Castiel paused and then asked, “Do you have a preference of height?  When it comes to women, of course.”

Dean debilitated over an answer for a few moments, glad for the light conversation to keep his mind off of a particular charming blond man from Castiel’s past.  Dean considered his own past girlfriends and one-night stands.  “Shorter, I guess.  But a beautiful woman is a beautiful woman.”  He chuckled and winked at Castiel, adding, “And height isn’t much of an issue horizontally, you know.”

“I see.”

“You?”

“Hmm?”  Castiel tilted his head slightly in confusion, unsure what Dean was asking.

“You, uh… like ‘em short or tall?”  Dean shrugged, knowing the question was sort of dumb when he didn’t know if he should have specified genders - Castiel apparently liked them all.  

“As you said,” Castiel answered without faltering, “horizontally, it isn’t an issue.”

Dean cleared his throat, realizing his own words were being used against him.  Castiel had said that he liked people that he had a connection with.  Was that the only thing that drove him to pursue someone?  What had he seen in Balthazar?  “Do you have any preferences?  It can’t really be as simple as ‘having a connection’...”

Castiel smiled with just a small quirk of his lips.  “I’ve started to notice what I find more appealing in a partner.”

“ _ Started _ to?”

“Yes.”

“Care to elaborate?” Dean asked with a shake of his head.

“Male,” Castiel started to answer, looking Dean over, “taller, dark hair, colorful eyes.  As for personality… I’m still working out what I like.  Heroic is at least one of them.”

“Heroic?”  Dean knew without a question that Castiel had been describing him even with his nearly vague preferences - Castiel wasn’t even trying to be subtle - but that last one threw him for a loop.   _ Heroic? _

Castiel’s lips tugged into a smile.  “I heard that I was not the only one to save someone else that day.  I do read the newspaper, and Hannah tells me that the Winchester brothers helped people inside of Dusty Pages after the crash.”

Dean shook his head.  “It’s what anyone would do.”  

“It’s what  _ good _ people would do,” Castiel said, “It’s what  _ you  _ would do.  You’re a good person, Dean Winchester.”

Dean breathed in, trying not to look as if he had been caught up in the sudden praise.  For a brief and joking moment, Dean realized that Sam fit Castiel’s bill as well.  It made him chuckle to himself.  “You’re a good man, too, Castiel Novak,” he said with a small smile of his own.

This was almost a perfect chick-flick moment where the protagonists would move towards each and kiss.  While Dean had some alcohol in his system, it wasn’t quite enough for him to brave that sudden thought, so he glanced away to avoid any lingering gazes to set the mood.

“You seem to be in lighter spirits,” Castiel pointed out hopefully.

Dean nodded.  “Yeah.  I guess so.”

“Would you like to go back inside?”

Dean shook his head.  He had almost forgotten why he had been so worked up earlier.  Almost.  He wondered how much time had passed since they’d come outside to the cold night.

A few more quiet moments passed under the light of the near-full moon as they stood there with their hands in their borrowed coat pockets.  The silence and company was soothing in some strange way for both of them.

Dean was the first to break the silence.  He just had to know.  It would bother him for the rest of the night otherwise and possibly even longer than that.  He just didn’t know how to ask.  “Cas, I…  I’ve probably already told you that I’m garbage with words.  But I gotta know.”  Dean had originally tried to keep his eyes on the random cars in the parking lot, but he turned them to Castiel.  “I mean, I know I’ve got a past with this girl -  _ woman _ \- and you have every right to worry that I…  I don’t…  Is that Balthazar guy anyone that I should worry about?”  There.  He said it.

Castiel shook his head.  “I do have a past with Balthazar as you do with Lisa, but he’s not a bad guy.  He’d… respectfully give Lisa what she needed.”  He’d suspected as much that Dean had been upset that their exes could ‘hook-up’, so he hoped that answer would put Dean at ease. 

“No, that’s not-”  Dean let out a noise of mild frustration, taking one hand out of his pocket to draw it down his face.  “Forget it.”

Castiel squinted at Dean.  If he wasn’t upset over Lisa and Balthazar, then what was the issue?  He tried to go over Dean’s scrambled words again: Dean had a past with Lisa, Castiel had a right to worry about it, and Dean was worried about Balthazar.  Castiel’s worry about Lisa was that Dean could and probably  _ should  _ get back together with her.  She was a female, the gender that Dean so vehemently claimed he was only attracted to, and she was having his child -  _ possibly _ .  If Dean stayed in contact with her, he clearly cared for her.  To what extent other than Dean wanting to spend his life with her, Castiel didn’t know, but that was some pretty serious stuff.

He also didn’t know the exact circumstances of their break-up, but he knew it was his fault - or not really his  _ fault _ , but they had parted because of their TiMERs.  Dean might not have had the time to properly break it off with Lisa.  He had called her even after he had met Castiel  _ again _ .  How long had they been apart before Dean and Castiel had made eye contact as matches?

Five days.

Castiel’s TiMER had started counting down at five days.  Dean had said as much in his love life tirade that he and Lisa had gotten TiMERs together.  Then he and Castiel had been matched only five days later.   _ Shit. _

Castiel had never officially dated Balthazar, but he at least had had the time to distance himself from the other man before anything could become serious.  Balthazar was a great and loyal friend, but he had always been clear that he didn’t want anything  _ more  _ in a relationship.  

He hadn’t yet brought it up with Dean, but he had lived with Balthazar for six months after Gabriel had moved in with his new soulmate.  After living with Balthazar for only a few months, the domesticity of it all had started to give Castiel ideas of the future and the what-ifs.  His new roommate didn’t have a TiMER, and his own was blank, so there was a possibility…

Castiel had started looking into homes immediately after that.  His apartment right next door had already been rented out to a new tenant, and by then Castiel had wanted that something  _ more  _ in his life.  Since he couldn’t have a soulmate in his mid-twenties, he’d accepted a home to call his own for the time being.

Castiel was given the chance to move on from something that he knew wouldn’t happen.  He hadn’t been disappointed or sad to move out and away from Balthazar; he had been able to avoid the heartbreak before he had accidentally fallen in love.  Balthazar still had no idea of how close he had come to falling for him.

Dean had been prepared to spend the rest of his life with Lisa.  That wasn’t something you just  _ got over _ in five days - or five months even.  What the hell had Dean been thinking to break up with Lisa so quickly?  But they had already had this discussion; there was no point in bringing it back up.  Regardless of how Dean felt for Lisa, he seemed to imply that he wasn’t actually planning to go back to her.  Castiel wondered if that would change after the baby was born.

Did he need to worry?  Should he worry that Dean would return to Lisa and cut Castiel out of his life for an even longer period of time?  Their TiMERs said the end result was inevitable, but he was tired of being lonely.  That something  _ more  _ was within reach - he could see it and touch it even.

Did Dean need to worry about Balthazar?  If it wasn’t worry for Lisa’s sake, then…

_ Oh. _

Just as Dean had a past with Lisa and she was still in his life, Castiel had a past with Balthazar and was still in his life.  Dean was…  Could Dean possibly be worried for the same reasons that Castiel was?  Neither of them knew what their past relationships were like.  How could Dean know unless Castiel had told him?

Dean wasn’t looking at him just then, but Castiel stood up straighter and asked him, “Do you need to worry about me going back to Balthazar?”

He didn’t answer right away, but Dean did look up to hold Castiel’s scrutinizing gaze.  He was trying to read Dean’s expression, trying to understand what his soulmate had been thinking.  Hoping.

Dean stared at Castiel while he worked through something to say.  How was he supposed to know if he should worry about Balthazar?  They were still friends, so something had to be there between them - he couldn’t deny that something was still there with Lisa.  If Balthazar was even half as amazing as Lisa, Castiel should sprint back to the man if he knew what was good for him.  Dean had baggage that he was having a hard time dealing with, including a sexual identity crisis.  

Balthazar was into men just like Castiel.  Probably had enough experience to know what he was doing with a man.  In bed.  In life.  He wasn’t a mess trying to figure it all out.

Should he be worried?  Dean tried to break it down, and there was one thing to worry about that was screaming the loudest - his inadequacy.  If only he could remember that night properly.  The alcohol had blackened a lot of the memory, but he had tried suppressing his romp in the sack with another man for a year now, and that only clouded it further.  He knew how to please women; he  _ liked  _ women.  Crap, could he even get it up for the guy again if he needed to?  Did he  _ want  _ to?

He would  _ not  _ think about Castiel’s mouth on him while standing out here in front of a public building to figure that one out.  Nope.

Friends.  He did want to start there.  Castiel had agreed as well.  There was no rush to worry about progressing anything further than that.   _ Why am I being such a baby about this? _  So, he finally responded to Castiel with a concerned, “Should I?”  

“I didn’t need a TiMER to know anything I could have had with Balthazar was doomed before it began.  So no, I have no intentions to go back to something that was never there,” Castiel told him.

Dean sighed with a surprising amount of relief.

“Dean,” Castiel continued, wanting so badly to reach out and touch his soulmate. “Regardless of the way either of us feel right now, know that I am yours.  I was serious when I said that I probably wouldn’t be able to see other people.  I’ll wait for as long as I have to, but you’re it for me.”

Dean’s eyes widened a fraction at Castiel’s admittance.   _ Crap. _  “But what if I never-”

“I believe in you.  You’ll come around one day, as daunting as that may seem.”

“Yeah, but then you’re stuck with me.”

“We can be stuck together,” Castiel gently teased. “We’re matched, and I know what the end result should be - what I  _ hope  _ it will be - but we’ll make the rest up as we go along.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked almost wistfully, unconsciously stepping forward towards Castiel.  They were still at least an arm’s distance away from each other, but Dean could feel the space slipping.  He took a quick glance around the area to see it was just the two of them outside still.  “And what if…  I can’t… you know?  Perform?”

“Perform?”  Castiel closed the distance some more, not touching Dean, but he did take his hands out of Dean’s jacket pockets.  “Oh.  In bed?  You’re concerned with sex?”

Dean nodded, shrugging his shoulders.  “I like sex, and yeah, it’s kind of important to me.  It’s just, you say Balthazar isn’t an issue, but it’s… I’ve never dated a guy before.  It’s not my area of expertise.  Gabriel made it sound like Balthazar knew how to…  I’m not - I’m not ready, but how can I ever be if I don’t know what the hell I’m doing?”  

Castiel chuckled quietly, looking down at his feet for a moment before returning to Dean’s darkened green eyes.  “It’s not so different.  The dating.  The sex.  You’ll figure it out.  I’ve dated both genders, but I’m far from a master at it.  Besides -” The sudden shift of Castiel’s lips into a grin had Dean’s stomach filling with anxious butterflies. “I do recall faint memories of our night together, and it was good.  Not perfect, but I had no complaints until the next morning.”

Dean huffed a laugh.  “Way to stroke a guy’s ego.  ‘Not perfect.  Could use improvement.’”

“It’s true.  You were…”  Castiel hesitated.  Would Dean want to hear about that night?  Did he want the details?  “Attentive and eager.  I would very much enjoy a repeat performance, but since you don’t find me attractive because I’m a male…  Do you need to be drunk?  I don’t want you to have to do that in order to-”

“You’re wrong,” Dean quickly interrupted.  He wetted his bottom lip with a slight drag of his tongue as Castiel caught his gaze again.  “I  _ do  _ think you’re good-looking.  I-”  Dean was not going to admit that his latest masturbatory fantasies had involved brunettes with blue eyes.  Before, they always varied in their hair color and length, their skin color, their figure, and they were always women, but now… Now his fantasy partner never seemed to show off any of their  _ goods _ .  Their face was so… genderfluid - a term Dean hadn’t really known until he scoured the Internet for what the hell he was imagining.  He tried not to examine it too hard, but one day - one day, he really ought to.

Castiel’s eyes were so intense.  Unwavering and focused.  Dean had been in Castiel’s presence quite a few times now, and he had taken notice of how hard - and often - Castiel would really  _ look  _ at him.  He was always scrutinizing him, probably gauging the right thing to do or say that would keep his skittish soulmate from bolting.  While Dean did feel sort of meek under that intense gaze, he had never felt threatened - challenged, but never threatened.

“What?” Dean prodded to see if he could diffuse the soul-searching stare.  His stomach was tying itself into anxious knots.

Castiel blinked once, slowly, and broke the eye contact.  “Nothing,” Castiel said as he turned his head to look out towards the parking lot.  

Dean knew Castiel’s tone said otherwise, so he flicked his chin and gently urged, “Talk to me, Goose.”

Castiel turned back to Dean, momentarily confused, but he didn’t bother asking what a goose had to do with this.  Instead, he said, “I don’t think you’d like what’s on my mind.”

Clearly, the Top Gun reference flew right over Castiel’s head or he had ignored it, so Dean just shrugged.  “Try me.”

“I want to kiss you right now.”

Dean sputtered for words and found none other than a lame ‘uh…’ that he almost didn’t catch before it escaped from his mouth.  He swiped his tongue over his lips again in a nervous twitch as Castiel looked up at him with a slight backwards tilt of his head.  Castiel hadn’t made a move to invade his space or touch him, but they were ridiculously close.  Dean had only to lean forward a tad, and he could…  As much as Dean didn’t want to kiss Castiel, especially not in front of a bar where anyone could see, a small part of him  _ did  _ want to.  Castiel had been so blunt and honest with him - maybe he deserved some recognition for his patience, a small something to tide him over until Dean was ready to get serious.

He tilted his chin down a little, encroaching more in Castiel’s personal bubble that would have bothered Dean usually.  Did Castiel even have a personal bubble?  “Why haven’t you?” Dean dared to ask in a near whisper.

Castiel licked his lips this time, pink tongue darting out and catching Dean’s attention.  “I…”  Castiel seemed flustered for a moment, eyes searching Dean’s so-close face, and then his jaw set.  “You’ve had some beers-”

“I’m not drunk, Cas.”

“I know that.”  Castiel’s gaze flicked to Dean’s lips and then back up to his eyes.  “Neither one of us had full control of ourselves to really consent the last time.  I don’t want to do something that you’ll end up regretting or that I’ll regret because it’ll create a larger wedge between us.”

“You want my permission?”  Dean cocked his head so that he was even closer to Castiel and raised a brow-  _ Shit.  I’m flirting with him?  Am I  _ advocating _ for the guy to kiss me? _

“Of course.”  Castiel’s gaze hardened in challenge and his voice lowered further as he asserted, “Now stop teasing me and either tell me to back off or let me kiss you.”

_ Holy shit. _  Dean could feel the charge in the small space between them, the warming butterflies going crazy in his belly, his heart hammering in his chest.  The blood rushing through his body was loud in his ears.   _ Holy shit. _  He was startled that these sensations were the beginning of arousal, and it was Castiel’s fucking fault.  He  _ wanted  _ Castiel to kiss him or he wanted to kiss Casteil - did it matter either way?   _ How much have I had to drink?  Just two or three… _

Dean hadn’t said anything, just swallowed and released a shaky breath.  With half-lidded eyes, he watched Castiel’s body move slowly forward.  The other man shut his eyes as his face turned towards Dean’s tilted chin.  They were so close; Dean could feel Castiel’s breath warm against his cheek and then his lips.

Before Dean fully closed his own eyes, he noticed a dark figure moving towards them.  He flicked his eyes up to get a good look at the stranger, maybe just to give them a ‘move on, nothing to see here’ glare over Castiel’s shoulder, but then he saw who it actually was.  His head snapped up, and he took a step back.  

“Dad.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dusty Pages is a made-up name for a store that doesn’t actually exist. And I didn’t research what the weather and moon were like back then, so… don’t hold me to any of that being accurate.  
> Also, this scene was far different when I wrote it on paper with Dean being all snappy and they practically got into a lover’s spat, but when I went to type it up… I don’t know wtf happened. The whole scene just rewrote itself. You guys might have preferred it the other way, but after Dean had calmed down, it didn’t seem right to get him all huffy again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Guys! I am soooo sorry that this took so long. (Holy cow, almost a year?! wtf?) I’ve decided to break this next scene up into 2 chapters. Good news is that this ‘party’ is almost fully written, so you won’t have to wait nearly as long for the next chapter to come out.
> 
> Oh! And Happy Birthday, Dean! (Jan. 24th)

* * *

“Dad.”

Castiel heard Dean say something, but he hadn’t focused on the word.  Instead, he realized that Dean was stepping back.  He frowned and opened his eyes to the fearful look on Dean’s face.  Thankfully, it wasn’t aimed at him.  He turned to find Dean’s father regarding them both with hard and serious eyes, a firm set in his jaw.

“John…” Castiel whispered.

This was not how he wanted his match’s father to find out about them - there wasn’t really a  _ them  _ yet, was there?  He knew Dean wouldn’t want it this way either.  He struggled to find some believable scenario that would require Dean to be so close to him.  Something was in his eye?  He opened his mouth to blurt out the first thing that came to mind, but the appearance of another man that Castiel quickly recognized as Bobby, Dean’s boss and a man akin to uncle, stopped his words.

“Hey there, Dean.  Happy Birthday,” Bobby greeted.  He gave Dean a raised brow as he surveyed the younger man’s clothing.  “Uh… new coat?”

Dean shook his head, grateful for the distraction from the look in his father’s eyes.  “It’s Cas’s,” he briefly explained as he flicked his thumb at Castiel next to him.

Bobby’s brow went up higher when he looked to Castiel with Dean’s jacket.  

“This is Cas?” John asked, his voice only giving away the mildest hint of surprise, but his eyes never changing.

“Yeah,” Dean said, shoving his hands into the trench coat pockets.  “This is Cas.  You know, the guy that saved my life.  Cas, you probably remember my dad and Bobby.”

Castiel held out his hand for whomever would accept it first.  He had expected Dean’s father to step forward, but Bobby side-eyed John when he hadn’t made a move.  After a moment’s hesitation, Bobby took the initiative.  

Bobby gave Castiel a firm handshake.  “Good to finally meet you officially, son.  Boy’s heavier than he looks, right?”  He winked.  “Had enough free beers for the night, or can I offer you another for saving our boy’s ass?”

Castiel politely shook his head.  “Thank you, sir, but I'm laying off of the alcohol tonight.”

“Huh.  Okay.  But you do drink, right?” Bobby asked.

“Not heavily.  Not in a long while, at least,” Castiel answered wistfully, memories of his and Dean’s drunken one-night stand surfacing.  “But I do partake.”

Bobby patted Castiel once on the side of his shoulder.  “Thatta boy.  Have Dean bring you over some time, and I'll get you something fresh from our fridge.”  He turned away and looked to the woman now coming towards them from the parking lot.  He addressed her with a grumpy tone, but anyone that knew him could hear the light teasing in his voice.  “Hurry up, woman.  You find it?”

“No thanks to you, old man,” the woman shot back with equal teasing.  She held out a pink lip gloss and rolled her eyes.  “Looks like it rolled underneath to the front seat.  So it was  _ not  _ in the backseat as you so insisted.”

Bobby held up his hands at chest height in surrender.  “You have my apologies then, ma’am.”

“Damn right, I do.”  She smiled, shrugged, and then put the gloss into her purse.  “Jess will be glad to have it back.  Hey there, stranger!” she exclaimed as she looked to Dean.

“Hey, Jody!” Dean answered with excitement as he stepped around Castiel to greet her with a hug.  “New haircut?” he asked as he pulled back.

She turned her head a few times to show off her dark hair cropped around her ears.  “Probably should have waited until Winter was over though.  My ears are freezing.”

“Looks good,” Dean said, returning his hands to the coat pockets.

“Thanks.”  Jody smiled.  “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t have time for any baking.  But let me know when you’re coming to visit, and I’ll make you a pie or something as a belated birthday gift.”

“You’re the best, Jody,” Dean praised her with a laugh, pointedly avoiding looking over at his father still.

Jody gave Dean a long look from head to toe and questionably pointed out,  “This is new…”

“Oh, for the love of-” Dean huffed and roughly tugged one arm out of the trench coat and then the other.  He held out the offending article of clothing to Castiel.  “Trade,” he demanded.  It had been a weird gesture to begin with, but he would not hear the end of it if they walked into the bar wearing each other’s clothing.  It didn’t  _ have  _ to mean anything, but he knew his close friends would read into it anyway.

Castiel didn’t even question Dean’s sudden desire for his own jacket and did as he was told.  No doubt his match didn’t want anyone questioning the swap of clothes - less to explain this way.  Castiel thought that Dean looked better in his own jacket anyway.  As Castiel was slipping his coat onto his shoulders and adjusting the collar, the woman he’d learned was named Jody waved at him.

“Introduce me to your  _ friend _ ,” she said to Dean.

Rightfully back in his own jacket, Dean responded with a roll of his eyes, “You know who this is.  Cas, this is Jody, but I’m sure you caught that.  Badass sheriff and Bobby’s soulmate.  Makes the best homemade meals...  As long as it’s not green, I’ll eat just about anything that woman puts in front of me.”

“Careful with your words,” Bobby warned, “she’ll just try to make a salad look appetizing, and you’ll be forced to eat it.”

“I’m glad you’re doing alright,” Jody said to Castiel, waving off Bobby’s quip. “You look much better without blood gushing out of your head.”

Castiel gave her a small handshake, puzzled.  “I was told there was minimal blood.”

“Well, yeah, I guess there wasn’t much for a head injury,” she conceded.  After a beat of silence, she continued, “I was responding officer on the scene and watched you get carted off in an ambulance.  You were out cold.” 

“I see.”  Castiel’s hand reached up to touch the slightly raised scarring on the back of his head.  

“Ever consider joining law enforcement or the military?” Jody asked. “They could use people like you that looks out for their fellow man.” 

“I did consider the Air Force once,” Castiel answered and dropped his hand, “but something came up, and I stayed here instead.”

“Air Force?  Nice.  John was Marines.  I’m sure you can get some stories from him if you’re interested.”  Jody flicked her chin at John who was hovering near Bobby.  He grunted an affirmative before Jody moved on.  “You make a habit of saving people?”

“I… I’m not sure.  It’s certainly not something I actively go looking for.  Dean was…”  He glanced up at the man standing next to him.  “It was just a right place, right time situation.”

“Well, I still owe you a medal.”  Jody smiled, hands on her hips.  “Maybe have Dean bring you over one day, and I’ll have some pie for you.  Can’t say that I can make Dean share though.  He’d eat me out of house and home if I let him.”

Bobby laughed beside her while Dean shook his head in mild embarrassment.  “Now can we go inside before my balls fall off?” Bobby suggested, suddenly huffing hot breath into his hands.  “I’m gonna get me some beer to warm up.  Again, nice to meet you,” he said to Castiel, “but if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a bar owner to cozy up to.”  He slung an arm around Jody, and she tucked in closer to him as they went inside.

John hadn’t said more than a few words and hadn't made a move to go inside.  Dean and Castiel hesitated to follow the others, just standing there next to each other and waiting for some sort of reaction from John besides calculating silence.  Dean felt foolish in his father’s presence - he didn’t know if he was hovering there for admonishment, forgiveness, or even acknowledgement - and he was a grown man, not ten years old.  John, no doubt, had seen them nearly kiss - shit, they had almost  _ kissed _ \- but if he any response to the matter, he was schooling himself well.

“So, uh…” Dean started.

John cut him off, his expression unwavering in its intensity as he spoke to Castiel.  “I appreciate what you did for my son, but don’t think for a damn second that he owes you anything.”

Castiel didn’t say anything to that, just stared at John in surprise and confusion.

Dean blinked and shook his head.  “Wh-what?  Are you… what?” he stuttered, trying to piece together what the hell his father had just said. 

“Dean owes me nothing, sir,” Castiel said in hopes of defusing the situation.  “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“I know what I saw,” John argued, his voice surprisingly low and calm.  His eyes turned sharply to Dean.  “I know he saved your life, but you don’t have to agree to anything that he wants from you.  While everyone is praising him for his heroism, I see now that he’s just playing you for the damsel-in-distress.  I can’t -  _ won’t _ \- let that stand.”

“ _ What _ ?!” Dean shouted, suddenly caught between laughing hysterically or fleeing the scene.

“I assure you that is not the case,” Castiel tried to reason, also wanting to laugh over the absurdity of the misinterpretation as it sunk in if only John wasn’t being so serious about it.

Dean ran his hand over his face before he crossed his arms at his chest.  “So let me get this straight.  You think Castiel is... what?  Trying to  _ coerce _ me into… whatever because he saved my life?”  It was a rare occasion when Dean argued with his father, but cases such as these when he was dead wrong and practically  _ threatening _ his friend, he’d make a stand.  “Don’t think I would have seen that a mile away and bounced the hell out?”

John’s face minutely slackened in disbelief.  “But, you…”  He turned and squinted at Castiel before looking back at Dean.  “You  _ wanted  _ to kiss this man?  Of your own free will?”

Dean didn’t speak, but his eyes cast to the side and the rising coloring in his cheeks said what words did not.  Castiel knew the truth; he hoped that John would come to the right conclusion.

John released a breath of air, a large cloud escaping from his mouth and dissipating into the cold night.  He simply said, “I need a beer,” and walked past them to disappear into the bar.

Dean started chuckling the moment his father was gone, laughing a little harder until tears leaked from his eyes.

Castiel watched on in mild concern, eyes darting between Dean and the door in case anyone were to venture outside.  “Are you alright?” Castiel asked, keeping his hands at his sides.

“Oh, God,” Dean wheezed, working through the laughs to get them in check.  He recovered quickly and wiped tears from his eyes.  “That was… Woo.  That could have been so much worse.”

“Worse than your father accusing me of sexual harassment?” Castiel asked skeptically.  “And calling you a damsel-in-distress?”

“Uh… well.”  Dean didn’t exactly want to elaborate on how much worse it could have been - or  _ had _ been sometimes.  While John wasn’t a shining example of a good parent, Dean still respected the man.  He still valued his father’s opinions, which was why Dean tended to not tell him shit.  “Guess you got me there.”

“Is this a typical response of your father’s?”  Castiel watched Dean, trying to better understand what had just happened.

Dean huffed a weak laugh.  “Coming to the worst possible conclusion, threatening someone, or suddenly leaving for a beer?”

Castiel wondered how often it had been  _ worse _ in the past.  What had Dean - and Sam - been through with his father?  He wondered how John would react to finding out that Dean was a closeted bisexual who had a man for a soulmate.  He didn’t even know John’s opinion on TiMERs; he remembered that John didn’t have one, and from the lack of scar on his wrist, he had probably never had one.  Dean’s father would eventually find out, and Castiel was beginning to suspect that Dean would need someone else there as backup when it finally came out.

Dean sighed, looking up and holding Castiel’s gaze.  “As I said, could have been worse.”  He shrugged.  “If you want to leave, I get it.  I’m not a huge fan of daddy issues either.”

“I can overlook a few imperfections in my soulmate,” Castiel said, not looking away.

Dean rolled his eyes.  “Add it to the growing list.”  He didn’t give Castiel a chance for a rebuttal when he quickly added, “Let’s get back inside.  Can’t have a proper party without the birthday boy.”

* * *

 

“The hell’s wrong with you, Dean?” Jody accused with a light smack to Dean’s arm.

“Ow,” Dean complained, sticking out his bottom lip in an over exaggerated pout.  “The hell was  _ that _ for?”

She waved her arm over at the table that the group had claimed for Dean’s not-party and then glanced back at the bar to where John and Bobby were still chatting with Ellen before she harshly whispered, “ _ Lisa? _ ”

Castiel had gone back to the table when Jody intercepted Dean on their way back in.  Charlie was guiding Castiel to sit next her, and Dean fought the urge to run over and impose himself between them.  He loved the girl, but she loved gossip and had ways of not-so-subtly wringing it out of a person.  

 Dean responded with a shrug.  “I invited her.”

“And Castiel?  You missed some keywords in his introduction.”  Jody tried to keep her voice lowered as she raised her brows expectantly, her eyes darting across the room again.  

Dean frowned.  “I know.”

Jody sighed in mild frustration and shook her head.  “I can say it’s none of my business, but you know that’s bull.  It was important enough for you to tell me in the first place, and I’ve had a hell of a time trying to keep it from Bobby.”

“Keeping what from Bobby?” Bobby asked just then as he walked up behind Jody with his hands full of alcohol.  He moved forward and handed her a mini bottle of wine, keeping two bottles of beer for himself.

Jody gave him a deer-caught-in-the-highlights look before she shook her head.  “Nothin’.”

Bobby scoffed.  “Right.  It’s ‘nothing’, darlin’.”  He pointed out their group of friends.  “Kind of hard to keep Lisa from me when she’s sitting right there.  Shame.  I was hoping to meet your match tonight.” 

John joined them at that moment with a beer of his own.  He took one look over at the gathered group on the other side of the room and gave a displeased grunt.  “You’ve  _ got _ to be kidding me.”

“Guys,” Dean tried to assuage them, “it’s not what you think.”

“You know I don’t believe in that soulmate crap,” John said despite Jody and Bobby’s mutual exclamation of defense.  He lifted his beer to his mouth and took a drink before he continued on without acknowledging them, “but are you honestly stringing along some girl that sham of a  _ company _ thinks is some sort of match for you?”

“I’m not stringing anyone along,” Dean said quietly.   _ At least, I’m not  _ trying  _ to. _

John took another glance at the table.  “So she’s okay with you still chumming it with your ex - who was probably one of the best things to ever happen to you?  And she’s totally okay with your sudden interest in dick?” 

“John!” Jody hissed.

Bobby look momentarily confused before he turned a scornful gaze to John.  “Don’t be an idjit, John.  You want to start crap like that, you best get your ass back outside.”

Dean swallowed hard, ashamed and embarrassed.  He’d never struck out at his dad before, but he’d been in his fair share of fights as he grew older, and right now, he really wanted to punch his own father for being such an insensitive ass.  

“I’m not saying anything that ain’t true,” John finally said.  “And I know I raised my sons to answer their father.  What’s your side chick got to say about all this?”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this on my Tumblr back in November while trying to write this (and the following) chapter:  
>  _Supernatural fanfiction writing issue #1,049,943:_  
>  Making sure that John Winchester doesn’t talk like Walking Dead’s Negan.
> 
> Okay, so… is anyone interested in “beta”ing the next little bit for me? You get an early read of what I so far have written in exchange for your thoughts on the direction that I took it. I don’t need anything for grammar (but I always accept grammar/typos since I don’t always see/fix them) since it’ll be mostly unedited. It’s your opinion that I’d need in this case. I may not agree with you, and I may not change anything at all, but some thoughts would be nice to help me get over the slight hump I keep having. XD  
> You can message me on my tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/worldlyshuku  
> or e-mail me: worldyshuku@gmail.com

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr if anyone is interested in checking it out. It's nothing serious, but it's predominately Supernatural right now (and Destiel). I sometimes talk about my writing, so you might get a chance to see sneak peeks for "All the TiME in the World" (or other projects)! I do post about episode spoilers, but I do try to tag them.  
> http://worldlyshuku.tumblr.com/
> 
> [Part 4](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6070594/chapters/13914208) is a prequel, so you can read it at any point you'd like. ;)


End file.
